


They Thought I Was Tasty

by Mooshbabii



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anorexia, Bulimia, Child Abuse, Hospitals, Molestation, One-Sided Attraction, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooshbabii/pseuds/Mooshbabii
Summary: There is always that moment that changes you, turns you into a better person, for the better, or worse, you become something new.Yuri doesn't feel like he became anything at all.Sometimes he thinks he never grew past the age of Seven.Like his entire life is stuck in that first moment.He wants out.He wants it out of him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So maybe this is a little too close to home honestly. Maybe it's not. I don't know. Here you go!  
> The title is from the song 64 little white things by cake bake betty.

Yuri hastily scoops the vomit from in between his fingernails out with the file. He didn't mean to do it. He'd promised Yakov he was better, he had promised. And look at him literally pouring it all down the drain. The chocolate, the ice cream, the chips, the piroshki. And what an insult. He felt that guilt tear at his chest like rabid animals trying to eat his heart, his grandpa would be so sad if he knew Yuri had shoved his fingers down his throat in a fit of panic and had willingly threw up his grandpa's piroshki. Yuri had waited thirty minutes in the bathroom cleaning up himself the best he could after his purge just to be able to brush his teeth. He needed to get to the rink in ten minutes. Yakov would know if he arrived late. Fuck it, he thought and shoved his toothbrush into his already stuffed to the brim bag. He'd just have to do it when he got there. Nothing suspicious about brushing your teeth, right?

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He had been awfully surprised by the booking of his hotel. Viktor and Yuri were right across the way from him. And that piggy brought so much squealing there that Yuri couldn't focus on anything. He had gone past his limit for two days now and he was itching for something to do about it. Tripping up his routine just made him more frustrated. He skated to the side of the rink and chugged his water, wincing in pain when he swallowed to much at once. Motherfucker. So when he came back to his room that night only to run into a tipsy Viktor, and Yuuri, he was less than happy about it.

 

“Yurio!” Viktor squealed and jumped on him. He tensed and quickly fled the contact, getting out his keycard. Fuck, he couldn't stop fumbling. His vision was getting blurry again. He must have overdone it. “what? I can't get a hug from my second favorite Yuri?” Yuri grunted. Fuck. Black spots formed on the back of his eyelids. He needed to get inside.

 

“good night Yurio?” Yuuri asked. His blue scarf falling haphazardly over his shoulder, the half naked Viktor was probably the reason why.

 

“It was until I saw you.” he retorted, finally getting his keycard out of his wallet. Okay now all he had to do was slide it through.

 

“aw, you don't have to be so mean.” Viktor paused for a second. Yuri managed to get his door unlocked and cheered himself on a bit more then he should have. Before he could get through though, Viktor grasped his wrist. All Yuri could see was dark. He couldn’t breath, there were eyes piercing into his skin, reading his thoughts. _ “our little secret right?” _ . The world went back to the yellow lighting of the hallway but his breathing remained paused. “what’d you do to your hands?” Viktor sobered, brushing a thumb over his knuckle. Yuri scrambled away fro. The grip.

 

“fuck off!” he yelled before slamming his door shut in the man's face.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Originally it was only meant to be one time. He wanted to join them. The neighborhood boys were a lot older then him, 12-14 to his 7 year old self. So when they said he could join their group, well, yuri was overjoyed at the prospect of having older friends, cooler friends. But he was younger and he had prove himself. The entire group hated him. Even the leader. So the leader took Yuri aside that day. Locked them both in the closet. Yuri wasn't able to comprehend just how wrong it was for a fourteen year old to be undressing him. Yuri tried to laugh it off, as long as he was able to play with them he could handle this. The boy pulled down his own pants. Yuri didn't understand it. Didn't understand the hand grasping his junk and twisting and pulling. Eventually being pushed down to the ground and being forced to inhale the boys penis. The gagging sensation was horrifying, the taste was bitter, the feeling of sticky liquid cascading down his throat was nauseating. And after the thing came out of his mouth he got a pat on the head and a little button made out of a bottle cap. That was awful. But it couldn't be worse than breaking his arm...right?

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He had woken up to sticky sheets that night and cried. Shoved his fingers down his throat so hard he choked on his own vomit for a minute. Maybe that was good, maybe that would make up for liking that nightmare.

  
  


-oOo-

 

_ If I kiss him does that make what he did okay?  _ Otabek sat across from him. He had never been able to talk so openly to someone like this. Feel so at ease and comfortable with himself. He couldnt stop the old stories from his childhood falling out from his mouth. Maybe he was a hit old for him, not too old though… maybe he was a fag. Maybe he was a fag just like Yuuri. Maybe he was just as disgusting and dangerous as that boy when he was 7. Just maybe all of that was true. Either way… Otabek was smooth as silk, and as rich as chocolate, and just as desirable as a successful purge. And maybe he was thinking to fast, moving too fast, way way too fast to ask the question ‘can you kiss me?’ to a friend he just made that day. But before he could even decide that, he was at a table for a party, with Yuuri the fag, and Viktor who abandoned him. He felt the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. 

 

His legs bounced erratically underneath the table. He couldn't help it. Chewing at his lip had lead to flayed skin that gave him the ability to tear. He chewed on his dinner, spit it in his napkin, took a drink of water. No one seemed to notice, which was amazing to him, he wasn't being very careful right now.  _ This is so stupid, what a way to live, why am i scared of food? Maybe i'm not scared of food l, maybe it's something else. Either way it's stupid, and it's gross, and i'm a stupid, gross, idiot to be okay with letting myself do this again. After all the help Yakov has given me. Ungrateful too.  _ JJ was pointing at the group, with that stupid ass grin. Yuri was the first to gather his things to leave. Otabek right behind him. At least the feeling was mutual, JJ was a self centered, egotistical, oblivious, asshole. And everyone at this accidental party would love for him to fail miserably.

 

They all walked back to the hotel in that group. Yuri pulling at the cord for his headphones, he was gonna break them if he kept doing that. His face was tight. He wanted to vomit for the high he felt afterwards, not even because he ate anything and it was sitting wrong. Maybe it was a little sadistic but that successful feeling after a purge was the best. Like slapping cold water on your face. He wondered to the left slightly. He didn't notice the pull in front of him till Otabek’s hand was pulling at his own so he didn't end up with a giant bruise. “be careful.” he said. And Yuri was so infatuated with his stoic face that all he could do was let his jaw drop and nod. He caught Viktor staring at him and smiling fondly at him in that moment and tore his hand away, shoving it in his pocket and snarling. Screw whatever that turncoat thought. He wasn't a fairy, he wouldn't take that title literally. Otabek was staring at him intensly.

 

“what?” he asked a little more harshly than he wanted. Otabek had no read to him in that moment.

 

“I thought your teeth would be more white.” Yuri shut his mouth fast and tight. Of course. Of fucking course. All those white strips accounted for nothing. 

  
He wanted to say something like ‘piss off’ or ‘fuck you’ but instead he managed a small “I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't believe this is happening again."
> 
> "It's not like me throwing up is as rare as a unicorn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehh maybe this is to cliched and heavy. beter to post something then nothing though.

He threw up again. It was just before he would compete but he threw up again. He was nervous as all hell and needed that high. He made sure to clean up, shoving a mint in his mouth. Brushing now would make the yellowing worse. He did look nice, he thought. He always felt the most indestructible when he was wearing his costumes. He gave himself a once over in the mirror.  _ Splash your face or they’ll think you've been crying.  _  He did, and opened the door. It was colder out the hall he realized. The floor was a nice carpet that made the building seem more inviting.

 

“your throat burn?” Yuri stopped in his tracks. His heart started to race. So much for that happy high feeling he would have gotten. “I have something if you need it, follow me.” of course it had to be Otabek. Of course it had to be. He felt the stinging in his eyes. The palpitations in his heart. The sweat on his palms and the barf in his fingernails all send a thousand signals to his head to just run before he can confirm it. But he already has. And maybe that's why he was crying. He couldn't move. He really couldn't move. “I remember when we were in class together. You were being scolded for doing this type of thing. I overheard.” Yuri’s skin burned when Otabek grabbed his hands. But he couldn't wrench them away. Otabek didn't deserve to have to be touching someone as repulsive as him. His shoulders shook but no sound escaped him. He could be loud when he was mad, but everything else made him quiet. “I didn't mean to make you feel bad about your teeth. I don't think anything of it.” Yuri got the strength to wrench his hands away through his tears.

 

“ fuck you. Fuck you, don't touch me. Don't ever touch me.” he spat through his clenched jaw. He hated himself for saying that. He hated that. He hated that every time he was with Otabek he felt okay, but as soon as he left his mind went into overdrive and sent him panicking. Otabek stared at him in silence for a while. Just staring, eyes pouring into him. He scoffed.

 

“grow up.” he said and shoved his hands into his pocket. “grow up and start telling the truth. Say what you really mean, Yuri.” He could only feel anger. It was only anger. It was all he would allow himself to feel in that moment. And he knew what would say next would make him regret his entire existence.

 

“you said we were friends. Proves how much we aren't that you think i’m lying.” Otabek frowned and grabbed his hands again.

 

“come here, brat. You don’t have to like me to accept a cough drop.” Yuri followed submissively to Otabek’s bag. He sat Yuri down in the chair and rummaged through his bag. “you're still my friend even if you're being an ass.” he was still crying, he wiped it away.  “Here.” Yuri took the cough drop in his hands. He found himself adding five calories to his intake.  _ Double it so you don’t over eat _ . He popped it into his mouth. Otabek was staring at him as he sucked on the drop. He moved to his pocket and handed him a pack of tissues. “Take these.” Yuri did so. Not saying a word. He couldn’t believe this. Otabek was just taking care of him, after Yuri was such an ass. What the hell was wrong with him? He shook, his knees locking so much that he was in pain. He choked on his spit and gagged into the tissue he used to be holding against his eyes. He couldn’t catch his breath. He felt like his lungs were on fire. He coughed and choked and gagged and cried into the tissue. Oh god it hurt. It had never hurt this bad. He caught his breath enough to pull the tissue away. His whole body shivered. His eyes widened. Fuck. Only after he had crumpled the tissue did he realize Otabek’s hand was on his back, easing him down from the attack. “That’s blood.” Fear pooled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t have Yakov find out about this. He couldn’t. He’d sooner die than let that happen. He looked up at Otabek with steely eyes. He couldn’t tell, he wouldn’t.

 

But as soon as he saw his face he crumbled again, letting himself push back into the hand on his back. No one had been there for him. No one had stayed by his side without restraint, nobody had treated him like they cared about him, they always just said stop. Just stop. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t handle how fucking fast he was falling for this man he only just becam friends with, who saw the blood from tearing his throat apart to make himself feel empty, to make himself feel like nobody was trying to get inside of him again. He sobbed, with noise this time, raking through his body. “Don’t tell. Please don’t tell.” There was a long silence before Otabek finally responded.

 

“Okay. You tell.” Yuri jumped up from his seat, still crying. The touch was too much suddenly. Otabek retracted his hand like he had burned Yuri. He shook his head frantically. The air wasn’t coming in. why wasn’t the air coming in? He gasped and hiccuped on his own breath. He turned on his heel.

 

“I have to go.” He practically ran down the hall.  _ Slow, slow, slow _ , he repeated to himself.  _ You need to calm down _ . People were starting to appear the farther he went down the hall. So did, coincidentally, the ability to catch his breath. Everything seemed to be blurring together. In a strange mantra of focus on the only thing he needed to focus on. Skating. Everything else collided with each other in a can and was tucked away. And the next thing e could remember was sitting in front of his hotel door.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He had won.   
  


He had fucking won.

 

He did it, through his fog he did it! Yuri couldn’t have been more happy in his entire life. His first time and he did it.

 

He could do it.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Yuri went back to Russia, to his grandpa, to his home rink. To the hustle and bustle of old grannies in scarves and old men grumpily walking through the streets carrying too many bags. Teenagers laughing loudly on street corners. He didn’t realized he had missed home this much. He never does until he is home.

 

The bad thing about being home, though, was that all eyes were clearly on him now. You’d think he would have said that about competing, all eyes were on him then too, but it was through a haze of work harder, see better, victory driven hope and hatred. He’d been blinded by it too. He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten. He was actually counting everything now. Even toothpaste. It was exhausting. He couldn’t get off his phone. He’d never used a calculator THIS much before. The bad thing about having all eyes on him when a medal wasn’t on the line was Yakov . . . and Lilia now too he supposed. Lilia had suggested trying to make a diet plan for him that would specifically focus on gaining muscle so his jumps could be bigger and brighter and more composed. Yakov had immediately shot down the idea. Throughout his training, when Yakov first found out about his eating habits, he’d never put Yuri on a diet, not ever. He though it was ‘morally wrong’ to put a child who should be enjoying his life on a diet. It was really just a coverup. Only Yakov and his grandpa knew about it. Maybe Viktor too but, he hadn’t ever been involved, so Yuri doubted it.

 

Little did Yakov know that this was the perfect excuse to eat as little, and drink as much water as Yuri wanted. He didn’t have to throw it up. He hadn’t realized how sore it had gotten. But it was also horribly wrong, because the idea that Lilia had seemed to have sparked that all knowing eye Yakov had for the teen. And Yuri couldn’t get it’s gaze off it’s back, ever. He suddenly found food surrounding him at all points, like it was some sort of test. The rink had a  **donut party** what kind of Ice skating rink has their coach host a donut party. Yuri definitely threw up that day. And found Yakov only a couple feet away talking to another skater. They didn't seem to notice, luckily.

 

“Yuri, take a break, you look like death.” Lilia looked at Yakov like he was crazy. It was a trap. Yuri groaned internally. He really needed a break, he felt dizzy, and sick, and he really wanted to eat something, and then purge it, so he could feel that high. If he could do that skating would be no problem. But right now, on an empty stomach, fueled by the sheer fact that he had skates on, was not enough to get him to go through that routine again. Of course, taking the offer, or rather, demand, that he should take a break would mean Yakov would know something was up. It was only 45 minutes into practice. He didn’t have a choice, fainting on the ice would just be a faster way to be sent to that cuckoo therapist. Or hospital. He’d have a feeding tube . . .  and - 

 

_ he didn’t go to the hospital last time. He had been caught as an eleven year old making himself throw up into the toilet, no faucets running, no music playing, people everywhere, and Yakov right outside the door. That wasn’t even what sent him to that psych. No. what actually sent him to there was that he had clogged the toilet, because dumb eleven year old him had tried to dispose of an egg salad sandwich by flushing it down the drain. He had told the janitor and had started bawling his eyes out. Yakov had been furious at first, and then, surprisingly, he was understanding. Yakov and his grandpa had a huge talk about it, what to do with him. They both drove him out to the hospital after that. He hadn’t done much damage, aside from most likely stunting his growth. So he was sent to a psychologist, who made him appointments three times a week, and a giant meal plan to get his growth back on track.  _

 

It was funny though, how Yakov and his grandpa treated him. Sometimes he wondered if his coach viewed him as a family of some sorts. Yuri took in a deep gasping breath and glided his way across the ice only to slam himself down on the bench. Yakov was next to him in seconds, his hands in his pockets, and a eery expression on his face. “Cabbage-”

 

“Don’t call me that.” Yuri pushed out between breaths. He really couldn’t catch it.

 

“Yuri,” He corrected. “Do you need to tell me anything.” Yuri didn’t  _ need _ to tell him anything, he didn’t even want to tell him anything, he knew he  _ should  _ tell him something though. Yuri shook his head and started to chug from his water bottle. It was almost empty. Since when did he drink that much? Yakov grunted and sat down next to him on the bench. A rare gesture of compassion. Yuri side eyed him and stopped chugging, he tried to calm his breath with little sporadic sips instead. After a long while of Yuri just breathing he said, “You are very tired, little cabbage.” Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m fin- wha-” Yakov grabbed his hand roughly. Yuri held his breath and realized what was happening. When he did he yanked his hand away and stood up. Little black dots blurred his vision. “Don’t touch me.” He hissed. He didn’t mean for that to come out. Yuri bit his lip hard and backed up. He stuttered to try and catch himself. Yakov wore a sad expression. Maybe he should have just let himself faint on the ice. Then he wouldn’t have to be conscious for that disappointment smeared all over his coach's face. Yuri could feel his throat knotting up.

 

“I have to call your grandfather, Yuri.” Yuri felt the anger flood him like a crimson wave. The fear welled up inside him like glacier, and the shame and embarrassment were so enormous he couldn’t describe them.

 

“No!” He yelled, and then realized he had. He crinkled his nose trying to keep himself from crying. “N-no. You-y-you don’t have to t-tell him anything.” He choked. Yakov opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it. There were so many thing Yuri wanted to yell.

 

“I can’t believe this is happening again.” Yakov mumbled under his breath. Yuri caught the sob on his lips. Instead he laughed.

 

“It’s not like me throwing up is as rare as a unicorn.” Yakov stared at him dumbfounded. “I-” He tried to backpedal. “I didn’t- I wasn’t -I.”

 

“Yuri, please sit down.” Yuri’s body swelled up, like a frightened cat. “We can help you-”

  
“I am not going back to that nutcase!” It was like he couldn’t control what was coming out of his mouth. “I’m fine! I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine!” He stumbled backwards with his skates still on, catching himself on the side of the wall. His eyebrows furrowed, his teeth ground together, in that split second he made a decision, and it was to get as far away from this place as he could.Yuri tripped out of the rink and into the dressing room, hopping as he ripped them off his feet, and traded them for his sneakers. He didn’t even pack them up. Still in his sweats and jacket. He practically ran out the doors.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d take him to the hospital tomorrow. He’d get him help. He could make his kid happy again. He rubbed his own eyes as he exited the cluttered room. Goodnight Ko’tenok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! i'm back again! hope you enjoy!

 

Viktor stared, confused, at the shivering teen on his doorstep. His brow gleamed with sweat, his breaths were heavy and strained. His eyes were red and puffy, he had been crying. The teen sniffled and vibrated where he stood, looking side to side like a convict. “Yuri?”

 

“Can I come in?” The teen blurted harshly. It seemed he realized this and unclenched his jaw, “Please.” He added. It was ever so rarely that Yurio was polite enough that he added that so, he would have anyways, but, he let the kid inside. Yuuri was still asleep in the bedroom. It was cute how much of a night owl he really was. It was cute. And lead to some pretty fun times. Viktor thought, cheekily. The teen walked in ahead of him and slammed his whole body face first down onto the couch. He mumbled something under his breath that Viktor didn’t catch.

 

“Are you okay, little cabbage?” The teen groaned and shoved a pillow to his chest.

 

“Why does everyone call me that?” He uttered. Viktor smiled, and very rudely shoved the boys legs off the couch and sat next to him.

 

“Because you are little, and children hate you.” Viktor teased.

 

“Well good, because I hate them.” Viktor noticed the strain in the teens voice, only now being able to sober up in his haze of confusion to realize something was very wrong.

 

“Did something happen?” The couch shifted beneath them both as Yurio sat up, he hugged the pillow tightly to his chest, and looked downcast at the floor.

 

“They’re going to send me away.” He whispered. Viktor straightened up and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Who? What?” He asked, maybe it was a bit insensitive. Even though they were close, Yurio wasn’t open. About . . . anything, ever. He only knew what little he had overheard from Yakov about the whole chaos several years ago. Let’s see . . . he was . . . twenty three when that was happening. An eating disorder if he could remember right. Seemed wrong, just so wrong, that a twelve year old boy would feel that way. Was that it? Viktor wondered. Yurio shoved his face into the pillow, and curled in on himself.

 

“I-I’m,” The teen paused and took a shaky breath. “Yakov found out I was making myself throw up.” There was a long silence and then, with a gut wrenching sob, he added, “Again.” Viktor heard the glass shatter with the teens image. He hadn’t ever seen him cry, well, not like this, not if it wasn’t over a fall on the ice when he was a kid. He found himself grabbing for the crying boy on the couch, only to cause Yurio to tear himself away like Viktor had burned him. It scared him how quiet he was. How he looked to be trying so hard not to make a single sound. “He’s - Grandpa’s gonna send me b-back. I don-”

 

“Yurio, calm down. It’s going to be okay.” That’s right. Yurio would be at the rink right now. So that meant . . . Viktor took out his phone discretely and sent a text to his coach.

 

Viktor) Yuri’s at my place.

 

“I can’t stop it.” The teen whispered. He really didn’t know what to do. He could handle angry Yurio, happy Yurio, quiet Yurio. But for some reason this felt more real. This felt personal, he was vulnerable. He was just a kid and he looked like he was on the edge of a bridge.

 

Yakov) His grandfather is on his way.

 

“Someone's on their way to pick you up-” The teen lunged at him, wrapping his arms around his waist. It was the least he could say that he was confused.

 

“It’s not my fault! Please don’t make me go.”

 

_ When Viktor was younger, he spent a lot more time with Yurio. Training together, Viktor liked being able to finally be ahead of someone. Be the person a kid could look up to. It made him feel giddy, and he probably spent the most time at the rink then he had at any other age. It also seemed to be the most time Yurio spent on the ice as well. A 7 year old and a 19 year old, It was nice. Maybe that’s really when everything started. He could remember the summer when he turned twenty and how he found the small boy hiding under a gym bench, far past the time he was supposed to go home. “I’m a bad person.” Is all he was able to say that night. In Viktors car, driving back to his grandpa's house. Or maybe it started when Yurio was 9 and he had to be taken home after he had asked one of the teenage students a question that ended with the boy shoved down into the ice bawling his eyes out. “I don’t understand.” He repeated over and over and over again until Yakov was grumbling curses under his breath and carrying the child away. Or maybe it had really just all started with the first time Yurio shoved his fingers down his throat. But Viktor didn’t know when that was. Neither did anybody else. He never stopped to think about why he was doing this. _

 

Unknown) This is Yuri’s grandfather, I’ll be there in an hour.

 

That’s right, Yurio didn’t live very close at all. Viktor tried to console the sobbing teen, failing miserably. A Padding of footsteps came rounding out of the hall. “Is everything alri- oh, Y-Yurio . . .” Yuuri had woken up. His eyes seemed to widen at the sight on the couch. He stared at Viktor, he was flustered and confused. “Did something happen?”

 

“Uh . . .” Viktor looked down at the quietly crying teen, still squeezing tightly to his waist. “It’s fine. His grandfather is coming soon.” Yuuri took the hint with a small ‘o’ and went to the kitchen.

 

“I’m going to make some coffee, would anyone like some? Or - or tea?”

 

Yurio was picked up not too much after a forty five minute awkward silence. Yurio sipping on his tea, trying to hide his sobs, with an unmistakable blush on his face. Viktor felt like a fish out of water. He did most of the time contrary to popular belief. Yuuri didn’t look too much better. Yurio walked out of the apartment as soon as he heard the ding go off on Viktors phone. He didn’t know what to do with this information. How could he help?

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Yuri, uhm, uh - I. I made Piroshki’s tonight.” He didn’t answer. He couldn’t eat them, everyone knew he couldn’t eat them. So why even try to hide it at this point? He leaned his body against the car door, gripping at his jacket in an attempt to quell his nerves. “Yuri, I- Please.” His Grandpa put a hand on his knee. Yuri yanked it away without a word. He heard a sniffle from his grandpa. The day was still bright. Bustling with cars as they drove past traffic ridden city streets they could see from the highway. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Ko’tenok, you don’t have to, yo can tell us why, we can help you. We will keep helping you and-”

 

“Can we stop by the store on our way back? I need a new toothbrush and some pencils.” His grandpa sighed and nodded.

 

“Okay, Ko’tenok.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


It turned into a frequent thing. After all the boys had left after hanging out. He would stick around and kiss Yuri when no one was looking. Hold his hand as much as he could. He’d snuck a porn mag from his older brother and took Yuri into a stall at the store and touched himself while Yuri was made to watch. He’d go home feeling like he had done something wrong. This was adult stuff. This wasn’t right. He was a bad kid. 

 

Sasha, he made Yuri call him that when the boys left. ‘Pretty boy’ was all he ever called Yuri. An insult, and an act. Yuri laid down on the scratchy carpet floor. They were in a closet. The entire house was full. If he made a noise he’d get in trouble. He’d be so embarrassed and his grandpa would hate him. Sasha rubbed his sensitive areas. Yuri didn’t understand. It felt so wrong but it didn’t  _ feel  _ bad. And he didn’t understand. Boys weren’t supposed to do this. Right? Or was this just like the stuff his Grandpad told him when he said ‘boys will be boys’ was this it? He pondered the meaning of it all with hands rubbing him up at down. “It feels good right?” Yuri nodded nervously and tried to laugh. This was all a game, it had to be, otherwise Sasha wouldn’t enjoy it. That was how it was supposed to be. Friends were give and take, he’d always been told that. You had to do things you didn’t like sometimes. And if that meant Yuri had to play a scary game once in awhile he would. “Okay, I think you should do it to me now. It’s not fair that only you get to.” Yuri really didn’t want to. Sasha pulled the magazine from his back pocket. “And do it like this.” Yuri frowned when he saw the picture. A girl on her knees, a penis in her mouth, she was drooling.

 

“Sasha, I don’t want to. Can’t I just use my hand, like you instead? I kind of want to go home now.” Sasha smirked.

 

“Okay.” Yuri smiled.

 

“Really?” He squeaked. 

 

“But you can’t hang out with us anymore.” Yuri felt the hot tears fill in behind his eyes. He nodded.

 

“N-no. I’ll do it. Just . . . Do you have a spare toothbrush?” Sasha nodded, and grinned. 

 

“Of course, pretty boy, I wouldn’t let you go home with bad breath. You can brush them after my mom makes you dinner.” Yuri pouted but pulled his pants up anyways.

 

“Grandpa wants me home before five . . .” Sasha scoffed.

 

“My mom will tell him we have dinner ready. He’ll understand.” Yuri really really wanted to go home.

 

“Okay Sasha.” He said.

 

“No problem, pretty boy. Now get to it. Time to pay your debts.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Viktor had taken him out to ice cream after practice. It was a reward for working so hard on his routine. As much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t bring himself to eat it. He felt sick. His stomach hurt. Viktor seemed to notice and ordered a pint to go instead. Saying that he could eat it when he felt better instead. And that they could hit the arcade before they both had to go home. Yuri wondered things about Sasha. If it really was like that with all boys. Yuri stared at Viktor. He wouldn’t tell his grandpa, he was always getting in trouble, with Yakov, and from what he heard, his parents too. He could ask him anything. He told Yuri that he could always tell him things. He tugged on Viktor’s shirt, the older man looked down. He had cut his hair shorter. Not as long as his back anymore, instead it was shoulder length. “What is it, little cabbage?” Yuri kicked his feet.

 

“Do you let people touch you under your pants?” He asked. Viktor stumbled on his composer and turned bright red. He laughed nervously.

 

“Yuri! That’s a really Adult question. I - I don’t think you should be talking about that kind of stuff at your age.” Yuri furrowed his brow. What was the big deal? All boys did it, that’s what Sasha had said.

 

“But have you?” Viktor bit his lip and turned to walk forward away from the crowd of people gathering around the arcade. It was okay, Yuri didn’t really feel like going anyways.

 

“How do you even know about this stuff?” Yuri tilted his head in confusion. Sasha said everyone knew, that he was just a late bloomer.

 

“Everyone knows.” He said, and added a ‘duh’ afterwards while walking forwards. He felt slightly more in control of the situation when he walked a bit ahead of the older boy.

 

“I - I don’t think -  eh, but, if you say . . . I guess. I still don’t think I you should ask people that question. It’s really, kind of, personal.” Yuri turned around, his lip stuck out. He didn’t understand why Viktor was being like this.

 

“But you said I could tell you anything.” Yuri blurted out. Viktor turned serious.

 

“Do you need to tell me something, Yuri?” His chest tightened, and a lump in his throat formed. Sasha did say it was inappropriate to talk about. Like potty jokes or throwing a tantrum in public. Yuri flushed and turned back around.

 

“No, dummy.” Viktor let it drop just like that. And walked him home, to where Sasha and the boys were waiting for him. Viktor sent him off with a wave and a smile and a ‘see you tomorrow little cabbage.’ Yuri didn’t feel much like playing that afternoon. He made himself throw up so Sasha would let him go home. He didn’t feel good. But it felt wrong to tell grandpa.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Hello, Yura.” He decided to skype with Otabek that night. He was feeling run down and, for some reason, even after the Grand Prix, he was able to talk like normal to him.

 

“Hi.” He said chewing on a cinnamon stick to take the edge off. Gum only tasted good for so long. Then again he was practically eating bark. He’d chew and spit but Otabek was here. “How is it over there? Miss me?” Otabek smirked and tapped on his desk.

 

“It does get boring here.” Yuri nodded and chewed. He should really spit this out. His cup was solid. He looked at it longingly. Otabek glanced over to the purple plastic on the screen and quickly looked away again. Yuri pretended to take a drink, really just spitting out the tree. “I’m coming over there soon. For about a month, to train, and visit some family for the summer.” Yuri perked up and smiled.

 

“Hey! That’s awesome, we can hang out again!” He was actually excited. Otabek smiled as well. Yuri had an idea. “Hey! Maybe we can put something together. I know Yuuri and Viktor have started doing some routines together, what if we did one, just for fun?” Yuri blushed, he didn’t notice Otabek do the same.

 

“Y-Yeah. That would be fun.” Yuri stirred the spoon in his tea and rested his chin on the back of his hand. He listened. He never did this much listening with anyone else but Otabek. His eyelids drooped, and he felt the calming effects of the chamomile buzz around his veins. The exhuastion of the day start to fall heavy on his shoulders. He hummed at the last sentences he started to hear. He didn’t mean to fall asleep in the middle of their call but, he was just so tired. 

 

Otabek watched the teen drift off into sleep. He didn’t doubt he was exhausted, after what he knew Yura did. He ended the call and sent a quick text to him after.

 

Otabek) Don’t wworry about falling asleep, you looked tired. I’ll call you again tomorrow.

 

Nikolai came in to find his Grandson passed out at his desk. He couldn’t believe he had been so blind. He could see the faint outline of his grandchild's bones. The bags under his eyes, the swollen lymphnodes and cheeks. He choked back a cry. He picked up the boy, surprisingly he didn’t even stir, and placed him in the boy's bed. Draping the blankets over him. He’d take him to the hospital tomorrow. He’d get him help. He could make his kid happy again. He rubbed his own eyes as he exited the cluttered room. Goodnight Ko’tenok.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twenty minutes later he in the bathroom, chugging as much water as he could without throwing up everywhere. God he felt sick. “Yurochka? We have to go. Are you ready?” He gulped quickly and almost choked.
> 
> “Y-yeah! Be right out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY shouldn't be updating this fic for the second time this week. I have like three other fics I have to update. But here i am. Dissapointing myself again and again and again.
> 
> ANYWAYS here you go!

 

“Get up!” It was a rude awakening. Having the pillow llifting up his head yanked out from under neath him. There he was knocked out to no end and then he was flailing his arms while trying to figure out his surroundings. Yuri grunted and glared at his grandpa.

 

“It’s only six a.m. where are we even going?” His grandpa placed his hands on his hips and huffed.

 

“We’re going to the Hospital. Hopefully we’ll be back by noon.” Yuri squinted, there was still sleep in his eyes.

 

“Back? I have practice at eleven. I haven’t passed out have I? Why do I have to go to the hospital? Isn’t Magdalena still technically my therapist, why not just make an appointment for her again?” Yuri knew he wasn’t getting out of it, but it was worth a shot. They were probably going to drag him to her anyways. He rubbed his eyes.

 

“Magdalena worked with kids. She’s going to look around for someone that will work with you.” It was strange how business his grandpa could get. “Yakov is benching you depending on what the doctors say.” His grandfather looked him up and down. He frowned. “Can you eat something before we go?” Yuri gritted his teeth.

 

“No. I’m fine.” He spat. Immediately regretting his tone when he saw his grandpa’s face twist up angry to hide the rest. “They’ll just make me eat something there anyways.” HE turned his face away, picking at his bedsheets. “Now will you get out so i can dress?” His grandpa nodded and left.

 

_ Okay, Yuri, okay. You’ve been ready for this. They are going to weigh you.  _ He had some rocks from when he kept junk like that as a kid. He can wear jeans and fold those up in the bottoms. If he rolled his socks down he might be able to shove some in their as well. Three layered shirts and a jacket.  _ I think there are some weights in the closet. If i can get those out maybe i can use those instead. _ He wandered over towards his closet. Rummaging through boxes. There was a lot of junk in here, he should really go through this sometime. AH! There it is. He picked up the weights in his hands.  _ Heavy enough _ .  _ I wonder how much I even weigh. . . _ He shoved one in either pocket of his jeans. If he wore a tight tank top he could probably get at least one in there. He thought. He’d just do as much as he could.

 

Twenty minutes later he in the bathroom, chugging as much water as he could without throwing up everywhere. God he felt sick. “Yurochka? We have to go. Are you ready?” He gulped quickly and almost choked.

 

“Y-yeah! Be right out.” God he was hot. A tank top, three, as heavy fabric as he could find, shirts, a sweatshirt and a jacket. It was still pretty cold out and he had tended to run chilly anyways. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice. Yuri chugged the rest of his glass and opened the door.

 

“I have some toast in the car if you change your mind.” Yuri shoved his shoes on his feet.

 

“K!”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Nikolai waited out in the lobby. The squishy and, simultaneously, hard chairs did nothing to stop his anxiety. His knee bounced and his brow sweat. Yurochka had been stubborn. He even fought the therapist. The kid could be loud and angry, but it was even more infuriating when he refused to talk at all. They all thought he was okay. How could he be so stupid? He put his head in his hands and tried to contain his jitters. “Mr. Plisetsky?” He perked up.

 

“Yes?” He said. The Doctor didn’t seem to concerned. In fact he looked kind of happy. “Is everything okay?” The Doctor smiled and took out her chart.

 

“Good news: Yuri is at around 90 pounds. So we’ll only have to get him in the healthy range, above 100. Of course, it’s more than just weight. He has an abnormal blood count, anemia. So we are going to send home a meal plan with you that should focus on helping with that specifically. Low blood pressure. Also on the meal plan. Lot’s of salt.” She laughed. And then realized her insensitivity. She shrunk back and read a little more off of the list. “We want to put him on a low dose of clonidine. To help with the anxiety around food. And to also, hopefully, stabilize his heart beat.” Nikolai sighed and nodded. So it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Yurochka’s weight was almost in a normal range. Now they just needed to get him on track with the rest of his health, and they could focus on the reasons this time. The why’s and the how’s. They’d beat it. His Ko’tenok would beat it.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


They hadn’t even considered him getting into a gown. And, quite frankly, he was surprised. He kind of wanted to see. And they just left him in there. He took out the weights in his clothes and stepped on the scale again. 82.5. He frowned, he wish he could have one of these at home. His old therapist told them to throw them all out. Yuri lived in a house with covered mirrors for three months after that. He quickly shoved the weights in his pockets again. If he had to gain at least ten pounds, to what they believed anyways . . . He’d have to get more weights.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He was benched for a week. Really, that was nothing. They thought it was just a momentary relapse. He found better ways to make it look like he was gaining, rather than losing, which he knew he was doing. He had gotten pretty good at sewing because of it. He hemmed his jeans up and folded in the weights. Same with his sweatshirt. He weighed them on their own: fifteen pounds. They wanted him at a hundred at least. He did the calculations in his head. Behind his pockets. That wouldn’t be noticeable.

 

Viktor picked him up on Friday. Yuri didn’t really know why. But he woke up with a metallic taste in his mouth, and a piroshki shoved into his hands, and then quickly ushered out the door. It took him a moment to orient himself. The world spun and block dots littered his vision. He squinted. “Yurio!” Viktor was dressed in his usual long coat, everything was usual about it. Just Viktor being Viktor. Except, it was just so much the same as it was before that it didn’t fit the rest of the world. It was like the uncanny valley. Viktor was the eyes of the imposter. Yuri groaned and trudged along the path to his car.

 

“Why are you here?” He asked, and tried to hide how he was slowly shoving his fist into his stomach.  _ Don’t growl, don’t growl, don’t growl _ . Viktor smiled wider and opened the door for him.

 

“I’m here to hang out with you of course.” Yuri looked around. Ah . . . he thought.

 

“Yuuri’s gone back to Japan?” Viktor furrowed his brow. But kept that grin glued to his face. It’s like showing those teeth were as important as keeping his heart beating. Yuri rolled his eyes. He didn’t need a response. He yanked the door from Viktor’s hand and climbed in. “Get in already. If you’re going to take me somewhere just get it over with already.” Yuri heard the other car door shut and felt the engine rumble beneath them.

 

“So how’s your studies going?” Yuri grunted in response. They were fine. He did all his schooling online and had a tutor twice a week. He had good enough grades for people to not worry. He shoved his fist in harder.

 

“Fine.” He replied.

 

The rest of the ride didn’t go much differently. Viktor asked those usual, long time no see, questions and Yuri replied with one word answers.

 

It was foggy outside and he found himself drifting slightly, as the car gently rocked him to sleep. He didn’t know where they were when he stopped. Just that there were a lot of trees. And the air smelled like bark and cold. “Wake up sleepy head!” Viktor said. The door was pulled open and he fell flat on his face out of the car.

 

“What the hell?” He yelled. Viktor bit his lip as he laughed. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you too.” Yuri looked around. “What are we doing here?” He asked. 

 

“I thought it would be cool if we could get to the top.” Yuri snorted. In that? Long coat and fancy shirt? And him in skinny jeans? He stood up and brushed himself off.

 

“You’re not exactly dressed for Mountain climbing. And i’ll be dead before I willingly do that.” Viktor frowned.

 

“This is fine. And you’re coming with me whether you like it or not.” Yuri looked up towards the tip of the mountain. Birds circled above them. A family of five circled around their   car unpacking backpacks by the dozens. Yuri crossed his arms. He was dizzy as all hell, his head hurt like he just got hit by a bus. And his legs didn’t feel quite all their.

 

“No.” He said simply and turned to get back into the car.

 

“What do you mean no. I said, whether you like it or not.” Yuri pulled at the handle.  **Beep beep** .

 

“You son of a bitch.” He muttered as he yanked as hard as he could on the handle. “I’m not going to climb a fucking mountain with a jacket this tiny, and not with someone who thinks he can walk four miles up a hill in a dress shirt. No. I’m not as stupid as you now, unlock the goddamn door.” Viktor turned and started heading for the path. Dumb ass isn’t even going to bring a water bottle. The older man flaunted the shiny car keys on his fingers over his shoulder. “Viktor. . . Viktor!” Yuri groaned and let go of the door handle. He ran to catch up with him. God, he couldn’t even run in a straight line. “This is so stupid.” Viktor turned around. “Did you even bring water?” Yuri said. He was already thirsty, and he was not going to feel like this for a couple hours. Viktor pulled aside his coat. “You’re wearing a fucking fanny pack. What are you? A suburban mom?”

 

“It’s practical.” Yuri scoffed.

 

“Sure, just like how it’s practical to take a hike in what most people would wear to an interview. It blends in perfectly with your black leather dress shoes.” Viktor clicked his tongue and took out the water.

 

“You’ll enjoy it. I swear.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He really didn’t have a point behind hiking. Maybe he was getting sentimental with Yuuri gone and all. And maybe he really just didn’t know to to cheer up or make comfortable the teen. So. . . After reading a bunch of sunny background websites, where the people had smiles and blond hair, to see what was good for . . . for . . . people in Yurio’s situation. ‘Outside’ was all he read and so . . .Hiking? He didn’t know. He was really out of his depth on this one.

 

It was actually quite pretty. He hadn’t ever really gone hiking before. It was so nice. He kept walking on the path. It was steeper than he imagine it would be, and he was dirt tired. He almost would have guessed the wheezing was coming from him. He turned around. Yuri was a shaking, sweaty mess. Viktor cursed himself. He really should have been paying more attention. “Yurio, let’s take a break.” The teen huffed, his hands on his knees. “We can go back if you need to.”

 

“To-” He huffed, “Hell if you think-” He gasped, “I came all this way-” He wheezed, “For nothing.” Yuri collapsed on a log in a little divet by the trail. Viktor joined him.

 

“You sure?” Yuri nodded. Viktor smirked. “And I thought you didn’t want to come.” Yuri glowered at him, gripping at his chest.

 

“I hate you.” Yuri burst into a fit of coughs gripping his chest hard. Viktor panicked slightly.

 

“Woa, are you okay? We should probably go back.” Yuri shook his head.

 

“I’m fine.” He frowned. Yuri never answered that question honestly. Viktor sighed and brought his knees up.

 

“You said that last time.” Yuri looked away, hand still clutching at his shirt.

 

“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do?”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His chest ached, Everything ached. And he laughed when he threw up on the side of the road. This was so fucked up. Said one part of him. While the other relished in his defeat of lunch and dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like!!

“Yurachka!” Yuri grumbled something under his breath. He was in the middle of his class. Did he really have to do something right now?

“What is it?!” He yelled back. There was silence, silence. And more silence until his grandpa finally responded.

“Yakov is here to have lunch.” Yuri groaned, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. He had planned to have dinner to fill up his limit for today. He briefly let his head hit his desk and got back up. There wasn’t any getting out of this one. The only way he’d be let back on the ice is if he actually showed that he was eating. Getting better.

“I’ll be out in a second!”

Yuri stared down at his plate. Now, he could eat this really fast and rush to the bathroom. But - They’d notice. He could eat it by cutting it into tiny pieces, that wouldn’t work. Okay so, slow but big bites. He could go in circles that would make it look like he ate more than he actually did. They were both staring at him. He couldn’t do this. “Are you going to eat?” Yakov asked. Yuri looked down at his plate and didn’t realize how long it had been. He stuttered, shoving his words back down, and nodded. Well, jumping in makes the pain last less long. He took a big bite. Saw the happiness on his grandpa’s face. He missed that look. He tried to swallow that guilt.

“You’re coming back monday. So I want to you to be rested. You have a lot to catch up on.” He couldn’t find it in him to reply. He just nodded again. Taking another bite of his food. He could see the smile on his grandpa’s face grow wider. Yakov gave the approving grunt. Just a blip, that’s what they all thought. Just a little blip in the system.

It passed with tremendous effort. Yakov waited around at least two hours after he had eaten. Yuri couldn’t help the nails slowly scratching every layer of skin off. No one noticed. He went on a walk. He told his grandpa it was just to get some gum and some drinks. But really, he went far passed the store. Running until bones ached. He had his backpack on. He couldn’t come home drenched in sweat. This was what had changed since he was 12. He was good at hiding it. He was so good at hiding every single habit he did that everyone thought he was okay now. He panted heavily, Gasping for breath his overworked body could get in. His chest ached, Everything ached. And he laughed when he threw up on the side of the road. This was so fucked up. Said one part of him. While the other relished in his defeat of lunch and dinner.

 

-oOo-

 

Tick tock

Tick tock

Tick tock

 

It kept ticking. He had eaten dinner yesterday, so why was he now so fucking hungry. His grandpa was out all day. Yuri was left alone to his own devices. Tick tock. There was so much food in the house. He traced his fingers over every cabinet. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it. God why did he have to throw up, why couldn’t he just starve himself like the rest of them. Yuri tickled the handle of the pantry. Up and down, up and down, he shifted the doorknob. Pretzels, Pastry’s, Canned foods, Piroshki, Junk foods, Cookies, Candy, Bread. But what he wanted most out of every single one of those things was jam. Three flavors. He held two jars in his hands, blueberry, raspberry.

The snow silenced the fading sounds of cars driving past his home. The clicking of the fridge in the background only made him want to eat more. The sound of him chewing would at least cover up that damn clock! “Shit” The jar of peach jam clattered to the floor. Spewing all over the ground. How was he going to explain that? He could just pretend there had never been a peach jam. It’s not like anyone in this house actually liked peach jam in the first place. Mmm chocolate sauce. Yuri stepped over the glass. He’d clean it up later. Grandpa bought soda right? It wasn’t like the bubbly liquid was better than water. But he had had so much water lately that the idea of chugging down three glasses before making himself puke was disgusting.

It was so cold in the pantry. Even Yuri’s fuzzy socks soaked up the ice like a mop. He shivered. Okay, so . . .Yuri looked at all the food. Chocolate sauce was a go, So was raspberry jam, so was the bread. Milk, he wanted milk, they had milk right? Yes of course they had milk, they always had milk. It be some sick joke if they didn’t. Milk didn’t even taste good, really, it was just the novelty of milk being milk. God he couldn’t stop thinking about milk. He took several packets of pastry, and the tin of chocolates, stacking up in his arms. He’d become the santa clause of food if he didn’t stop. He kicked the door shut to the pantry. It closed with a satisfying clack. Yuri dropped all of the food down on the dining room table. He stared at it for a while. Laptop, laptop. He could get some work done while he did this. Or he could just watch shows, either way JUST binging was sad. He hurried to the fridge and took out the milk. It was halfway done he’d finish that before he needed a glass.

Chew, chew, chew, chew. Chew thirty times otherwise it’ll hurt coming up. He didn’t do work. Instead he settled on watching some cooking shows. Stupid, really. He kind of wanted to try making that flan in all honest. Might be a good cover up for not eating. He tore apart his bread with his fingers. It was gross. He always ate so gross when he binged. Gross gross gross. He gulped down the milk, and then immediately did the same with the soda. Some of it dribbled down his chin and he wiped it with his sleeve.He had eaten the whole jar of chocolate spread, and made it halfway through the jam. Tick tock, tick tock. Yuri eyed his phone. 11:47. He should throw this up now. He twisted up the bread bag and put everything away as neatly as possible. And then excused himself to the bathroom.

Throwing up stinged. In short. It burned his nose more than his throat. His throat just got sore instead, like a bad cold or something. Not burning as much as his nose. And all the blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy. Even after washing his hands and face, he could still smell the vomit on him. He grimaced and looked in the mirror. Maybe he could get whitening strips. He popped the gum in his mouth. He wasn’t done. He thought. He wanted something salty. There weren’t any chips. And binging on saltines was just a waste. He had to replace the food anyways . . . 

People talking. The sound of the cash register, the beeping of the scanner. His shoes clicked on the way home. The bag crinkled as he walked. Yuri found himself out the door of one convenience store and in another right after he bought the bag of chips. The store clerk eyed him suspiciously. He made his way to the medicine aisle. He could try laxatives. He never had before. Throwing up made him tired. He looked at the back of the box. Idly scanning every piece of information. He was spacing out. “Yuri?” He knew that voice. It was deeper yes, but he knew that voice. “Yuri is that you?” The teen whipped around. “Oh my god, it is you!”

It was him. It was fucking Sasha. The one who was making him do this. Sasha. Fucking Sasha, for the love of god. He was taller now. A scruffy beard outlined his cheeks. He was the strong attractive Russian boy all the girls said he’d turn out to be. Yuri smiled and placed the laxatives back on the shelf. “Sasha.” He greeted. “It’s been so long, what have you been up to?” Sasha smirked.

“Nothing as cool as you, pretty boy. Professional skater, gold. I’ve been watching you, you know. Ever since I moved I’ve been keeping up with you. You really are amazing!” Yuri smiled wider. He was starting to feel foggy. He held onto his bag tightly.

“Oh, I bet you’re doing something cool as well.” Sasha chuckled and patted his arm. Yuri didn’t move away, and he didn’t know why.

“Ha!, you’ve got to be kidding me - eh, uh, I’ve got to get going. My coworkers wanted me to get them all coffee. So - hey! Why don’t we exchange numbers. We can meet up?” Yuri found himself nodding. Why was he nodding? What the hell was he doing? “Great!” Sasha took his phone. Yuri felt the cold dread wash over him. The man tapped away on Yuri’s phone, and put his number in. And then put Yuri’s number in his. “There.” Sasha said, handing him back his phone. “Give me a call sometime and we can hang out. I’d love to catch up properly.” Yuri nodded and shoved his phone back in his pocket, attaching the headphones again. “See ya!” Sasha waved as he went to the counter with his coffee’s.

Yuri watched. The bell rang as Sasha exited. “Fuck.”

He shoved three boxes of the laxatives into his bag. He took an energy drink, and left as fast as he could. He didn’t want to eat this anymore. He didn’t want this in him anymore.

 

-oOo-

 

Yuri) Otabek! Hey! are you awake?

Otabek) Yes. why?

Yuri) Do I have to have a reason?

Otabek) No.

Yuri) What are you up to?

Otabek) Trying to sleep.

Yuri) How fascinating.

Otabek) And you?

Yuri) The usual.

Otabek) If you want to talk about something just talk about something. I’m your friend i’ll listen.

Yuri) Don’t get all sentimental on me here. I’m just bored.

Otabek) Bored because you aren’t eating?

Yuri) Beka, shut up. 

Otabek) Fine.

Yuri) I’m sorry.

Otabek) It’s okay.

Yuri) I’ll let you sleep. Talk to you later.


	6. Author's note/Apology

This is not honest. I am not being honest with you guys. 

I guess this is sort of a relapse of something that never really got out of control. So I wrote this to basically encourage a behavior I know is slowly killing me. It has gotten to the point that i literally woke up this morning and thought "I should quite taking my medication, It makes my heart slow down, if i'm not eating my heart slows down, so i should stop taking my medication" The medication that is for my Tourette syndrome, the medication that is for my OCD.

And take that as as sad a message as you want. Pity me if you have to. But What I really came here to say is that this isn't accurate. This story isn't real. This is a work of fiction done by someone who glamorizes their disorder and gets butterflies when they think about passing out. This isn't healthy in the slightest bit. So, this story is going to take a turn. Maybe I can make it into something as gallowly humorous as I am with my life. 

I'm not like Yuri, I don't throw up to the sound of silence and imagine my too old for me boyfriend.

I watch comedy shows with fingers down my throat after eating an entire bag of bagels. So I came here to really say, don't take this at face value. This fic is real in only a depressive way. This is all the sadness I hide throughout my day thrown out into an angry spitball of 'do what's hurting you more' This story is going to keep going, because I have to keep writing because my life depends on it. But it's going to be more uncomfortable. More real. More silly. Because this disorder, if you think about it, is ridiculous. It's fucking dumb. And I have it. 

Thank you so much for reading. And I'm sorry I got so real there. Have fun! Don't be like me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t feel okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so. I updated again. I'm trying to get my footing into something a little closer to reality. Instead of a finicky thing i made. If you are wondering how I am doing, well, my throat hurts?? really bad??  
> Okay hope you enjoy!

People often assumed he ate nothing. He ate. He ate stuff. It’s just that he counted it. His base was usually 700 calories on monday and it got lower by a hundred every day throughout the week. Today he went over his limit. It wasn’t a binge, It really wasn’t. But the donut he had eaten on a whim was oozing down his fingers in soggy chunks. So he counted it up to 1,058. It wasn’ the worst. But it was bad. And It made his stomach do flips. Well it was more like HE was making his stomach do flips. He threw up what he could. But he was so tired. He was so fucking tired. He just couldn’t. He went to bed with tremendous guilt, tremendous anxiety.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


79.9

 

So everything was on the kitchen table. Pop songs played in the background as he stared at all the labels. Bread, crackers, corn, carrots, chicken noodle, chicken noodle, clam chowder, peas. He had been feeling . . . okay. Surprisingly tired. But okay. Yakov let him on the ice, making his practice time half as long. It didn’t seem long enough for him so . . . Maybe he went to the park afterwards and ran, and ran, and ran. His shins hurt.

 

Yuri danced to the music on his laptop, as he swayed, and spun around to the music he rearranged the foods. He hadn’t binged since he saw sasha.

 

“Corn, Peas, Clam chowder,” He sang the labels along to the song. It made him laugh at himself slightly. Doing a pirouette in his kitchen probably wasn’t the safest of ideas. Before he knew it, by the end of the afternoon, he had re-arranged the entire kitchen. And he sat at the table, his knees to his chest, just staring at the shelf of all the chocolates, all the sweets, and fatty foods. Yuri licked his lips. It had been four days since his last binge. Four days. He’d only ever been able to make it to three without eating everything in his house, or what he thought was everything in his house. HE could already feel the fingers sliding down his throat before he even put his hands on the chocolate bar.

 

His grandpa came back as he was eating a chocolate sauce and peanut butter sandwich. Which seemed to make him the happiest man alive. Yuri didn’t even have time to comprehend this though, he was knee deep in his binge. He couldn’t purge in his house now, his grandpa would hear. He’d go on a walk. Yeah. he’d go on a walk. His eyes darted around the house for the door like he was lost. He felt like he was high, or something. “I’m gonna go on a walk, be back by dinner.” He said. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Gagging echoed around the bathroom stall. The clerk gave him the meanest look when Yuri only bought a water. It was sitting on the floor next to him. He choked. And pushed himself away from the toilet bowl. He wiped his mouth on his wrist and stared, eye red rimmed, at the ceiling.

 

**Brrring**

**Brrrrring**

 

“Shit.” Yuri said, he grabbed his phone and answered. “What?”

 

“Yurio! Hi, It’s Yuuri. Viktor told me to call you and invite you to dinner with us.” The teen rolled his eyes. SOmething fatty, of course. He’d probably eat it too. He had no control. But . . . Yuuri paused on the phone. His tone was nervous. “Yurio?”

 

“Fucking what?”

 

“Um. I didn’t know if you were still there.” There was a long pause where Yuri was trying catch his breath. “Are you okay?” 

 

“I’ll go! Just hold on alright? I’m in the middle of something.”

 

“Yeah. Erm. yeah, sorry. Looking forward to seeing you.” Yuri hung up before saying anything. And again, his phone started to ring again.

 

“Okay, who the fuck decided this was the ‘call yuri’ time. I’m busy for christ's sake, now what the fuck do you want?”

 

“Wow. I didn’t know I wasn’t important enough, me, your childhood best friend, to call you?” Yuri’s spin went rigid. Sasha. The man laughed over the phone and resumed. “You didn’t have to answer. I would have left a message.” Yuri sighed.

 

“Sorry.” He said simply. Sasha hummed, there was tapping in the background.

 

“Guess what?” Yuri didn’t respond but the man kept talking. “I’m going with my work to your next competition, reporting, you know. Camera guys are pretty lucky, huh?” He really didn’t know what to say. He didn’t like it. He hoped that Yakov would do a good job at actually keeping him away from reporters this time around. Like, REALLY, hoped. 

 

“That’s great, Sasha.” He didn’t even know he was into camera’s as a kid. Yuri tried to keep himself from throwing up on the phone. 

 

“And I was really going to call you to ask you,” The man took a heavy breath in, “Ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me.” His breath caught. And this time he really had to clasp a hand over his mouth before the vomit. He didn’t respond. He hung up immediately and let himself purge the rest of what he wanted for at least thirty minutes before he felt okay again.

  
He didn’t feel okay.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sure! Because I chose this! Fucking fine then! You think this is all my choice, you think that i’m selfish for having a fucking disease, that I see myself as being perfectly fine. Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I had a shitty week. I had to drop out of my school play because of a performance conflict. I woke up late and missed my in class performance and lost all of my points. So BAAAAAD week also almost have finals. >:( So this is short and angry??? Hope you enjoy.

“Remind me why you thought coming over and watching a cooking show was a good idea for you?” Viktor attempted to tease while he watched Yuri push his food around on his plate. Yuri growled under his breath and shoved a piece of cod into his mouth out of pure spite. He spat it out in his napkin only seconds later. Trying to hide it, but, Viktor spotted right away.

 

“I’ll do the dishes then.” He sighed, sighing. Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

“Sure, and i bet that’s just because you’re so hospitable.” the other Yuuri looked between the two of them, his eyebrows furrowed, and a curled up mouth over his chewing. He didn’t have the full picture of what was going on but Yuri didn’t think that, even with someone that stupid, he couldn’t figure it out.

 

“Yes!” Viktor said, his eyes squinting and his smile thin and braced way to high for his tone of voice. “And because I don’t want to make Yuuri clean up the napkin you keep spitting into.” The teen bit his tongue. His fork clattered to the plate. He hated this. What? Was he on some sort of fucking trial?

 

“Fuck you.” Yuri muttered.

 

“Stop being so selfish for once. Just because you think you’re such a punk teenager doesn’t mean you get to create problems that ruin everybody else’s days. Yuuri made this for you, and you just keep spitting it out. You’re not fucking fat. You’re so deluded that you can’t even see that. What, do you want to die?” And after everything, this is what Viktor takes away from knowing the truth? The room was filled with a dusty silence. Static sounds as everyone's thoughts ran so loudly passed their minds before pouring out of their lips. Yuri stood up. The chair scraped against the floor.

 

“Sure! Because I chose this! Fucking fine then! You think this is all my choice, you think that i’m selfish for having a fucking disease, that I see myself as being perfectly fine. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You fucking drunk!” Yuri was almost laughing in hysteria. “ _ I  _ have a problem,  _ sure,  _ I do! But what about you Viktor, hmm?” Yuri crossed his arms and smiled. “What do you do when Yuuri isn’t around? Don’t think I haven’t noticed. It’s not like you’re any healthier then I am. Your kidneys and my kidneys are on the same level of potential failure. The only difference is that you’re just a lonely old man who has fallen out of a career, who’s boyfriend is never home, and me? I’m fucking admired! At least I add up to  _ something _ , you’re  _ nothing. _ ” Yuri sat back down in his chair. He wasn’t gonna leave. He didn’t want to go back to his house, he didn’t exactly have any friends. And chewing the fish and spitting it was a better option than nothing. He lowered his voice, “And to answer your question, I do, if not only to see the look on your face.” it was a pregnant pause. Everyone just looking at each other. Yuri didn’t even try the chewing and spitting he did anymore. And, maybe, for the first time ever, he was the only one actually eating.

 

Yuuri had an unreadable expression on his face. His cheeks were still filled with food. He wasn’t even chewing. It looked like he just accidentally bumped into a vat of lava. Viktor on the other hand, was pissed. Just that flat, forced smile, the shadow over his eyes, his hands attempting to cover his mouth. “This is really good cod.” Yuri said. And maybe he said it just to piss them off even more.

 

“I think i’ll go eat in my room.” Yuuri said, a little cautiously, and then darted out of there. Yuri and Viktor held eachothers stares for a while. Yuri still chewing, and spitting, and chewing, and spitting.

 

“I’m telling Yakov.” Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

“Go ahead. Not like treatment will last long anyways.” He didn’t really want him to tell Yakov. If  _ Viktor _ told Yakov, that would definitely mean Yuri would be sent away somewhere.

 

“I’m not a drunk.” Yuri raised his brows. Maybe he wasn’t the stereotypical drunk, but Yuri didn’t doubt he had a problem. But it was a point he could poke.

 

“Whatever you need to say to sleep at night.” A shiver ran up his spine with the way Viktor looked a him.

 

“Do you sleep at night?” Yuri squinted.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked.

 

“Is there something else, going on? Is - Are you safe?” Yuri didn’t answer. “You can tell me anything, Yurio.”

 

“You gave a nickname to the person you’ve known all your life versus the person you only met a year ago. Sure, I can tell you anything.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I missed you.” Was all he caught before the hands left him in reality. Yuri still felt them, however, in his small world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did i already tell you guys to go watch the pilot episode of 'Binge' on HLG studios channel? it's a great representation. Better then this shit XD. Heres your chap.

 

3 missed calls, one voice message, 14 texts and one Alexander Petrov on his doorstep.

 

Yuri was holding his breath as his grandpa ushered their guest in. The men, both smiling, walked cheerfully over to the chair, the only difference between the two is the hidden lascivious expression on Sasha’s face. Yuri stood with his arms crossed, and his face guarded, leaning against the tiled counter top. “Sahsa! My boy! It’s been so long since you have come to see us.” His grandpa spoke, embracing Sasha. Yuri tried to hide his revulsion by sniffling a little. Maybe he could feign a cold and get out of this whole thing.

 

“Too, too, long Ithink. I’m so sorry, I’ve been traveling with my family and then caught up in my work. Ah! Did yuri tell you i’m going to be on one of the crew filming his next competition! It’s a great way to catch up. With you and him.” Yuri’s grandpa grinned widely and stared expectantly at the teen, inquiring quite intensely as to why he was not going to take a seat with the rest of them.

 

Yuri coughed quite roughly and drooped his lids - he was quite good at this, what, with the many days he had taken off to dedicate himself to binging and purging alone, he had gotten the perfect ‘I’m sick look’ and his grandfather was an absolute fool for it. He pounded on his chest as if to get out a wad of phlegm and then said, quite pathetically, “I think I’m coming down with something, I don’t want either of you to catch it.” He made his voice all raspy too, which was actually kind of real. Still quite sore from the previous day's events. 

 

His grandpa stared for a moment and then looked at Sasha. He frowned. Nodding. Yuri wasn’t actually sure this time if it worked or not, was he catching on all of a sudden? Or was his performance lacking . . . Yuri faked a sneeze to make sure. No, he still had it. Drat. This felt like it wasn’t going to go his way. “I suppose it can’t be helped then. Sasha, do you mind watching over him while I’m out, I don’t want him dropping dead on me all of a sudden. Flu’s making it’s rounds this time of year.” Sasha smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back, his smile prominently showing his perfectly white teeth.

 

“I wish I could. I was only dropping by to make sure he was alright,” Sasha chuckled, “Seems my question has been answered with a nasty cold. No, no, as much as I wish i could help you out by watching over your grandson I can’t, actually, I’ve got a date.” Yuri looked up quickly. A . . date? Didn’t he just ask Yuri out? Yuri’s walls spiked even higher than they had been. Sasha casted him a glance and crinkled his eyes to match his smile. Yuri tried to smile back, but it came out more like a grimace. He coughed immediately after to hide it.

 

“‘S’cuse me, I’ll just be in my room. Bye Sasha.”

 

“Bye, Yuri. See you soon.” The teen turned with the ever present feeling of dread creeping up behind him. He’d lock his door, he’d hide under his blanket, and he’d turn on the sound on his phone all the way up drown out the thoughts bombarding him on just what someone who caused this much distress in his life could do all over again.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Yuri) If I were to die, what would you do?   
  


Otabek) Don’t be so morbid.

 

Yuri) blah blah blah, what would you do?

 

Otabek) I’d probably cry a lot, I’d probably be in my room a lot. Why are you asking this? Not going to kill yourself on me are you?

 

Yuri) I’m not that desperate for attention.

 

Otabek) What about me?

 

Yuri) what about it?

 

Otabek) It’s your turn.

 

Yuri) Don’t be so morbid.

 

_ You’ll never die. _

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He caught the apprehensive stare Yuuri was eyeing him from the bleachers of the rink. He grumbled to himself as he finished out his routine. His chest felt heavy, like a metal plate had been inserted behind his skin and was itching relentlessly at his heart. He gasped, and tripped up on his jump. He blamed it on Yuuri. He continued.

 

“Yuri! Shoulders back. You should know this by now!” Yakov yelled from the sidelines. Yuri rolled his eyes, he finished his spin and ended. He needed water. He knew that ending was sloppy, but damn did he need water. “Are you okay? Did you eat enough today? You look pale and you’re unfocused. Do I need to call your grandfather?” Yuri grumbled as he drank.

 

“I’m fine!” He spat and wandered over towards Yuuri on the other side. Trying to get away from his coaches prying. Yuuri rubbed his hands together and stood up. His scarf bunched up around his face outlining the weight he had subtly gained over the course of his trip. Yuri tried not to have his thoughts judge harshly, logically he knew it didn’t matter. But. . . still, he found himself doing that. Making snide remarks in his head about other people weight. He didn’t want to be that person, but it was hard not to when you were so terrified of it. Yuri pulled on his jacket as he walked, and stopped in front of him. “What are you dng here?” Yuuri smiled and took a step forward to offer a hug. Yuri didn't comply, and stepped back. “Where’s Viktor?”

 

“He’s not here,” The air was stiff, and Yuri sensed the oncoming topic like an impending train while he was caught on the tracks. “I wanted to see you,” He coughed and rubbed his hands together some more. “Your routine looks amazing.” Yuri grunted.

 

“Just spit it out. I don’t have time for everyone to tiptoe around me like some fucking porcelain doll. I’m not unstable, I’m not crazy. So just spit it out already.” Yuuri looked taken aback. He frowned and let his hands fall to his sides.

 

“I don’t know everything that’s going on. But I do know it’s not your fault. I don’t know why everyone keeps treating you like it is,” Yuuri grumbled and looked away from him. “I want you to know that. You can tell me things if you need to. You’re closer with Viktor and I know i’d probably never be your first choice, but sometimes it’s easier to tell people you aren’t close with things that could be hurting you. I want you to be safe. And you don’t seem like you are.” Yuuri paused and grabbed at his hands again, some nervous habit he developed over his trip no doubt. “You have an eating disorder, right?” Yuri nodded. He was surprised. Extremely annoyed and surprised. Everyone always treated him like he was some sort of trouble child that wasn’t trying hard enough. That this was his own doing and not the fault of some crippling disease. “It may not be my place to say. It’s not my story to tell, but I think you need someone to relate to? To, eh, talk to about what you’re going through. You should talk to Phichit. He went through something similar back when we were rooming. I just thought you might be able to get through this if you had someone to talk to.” He didn’t know what came over him in that moment. Despite Yuuri’s efforts, it made him unseemingly angry. He wanted to yell at the man. He didn’t need to stop this. He didn’t want to stop this. He wanted to be alone forever so he could do whatever he wanted. He never wanted to stop this. He didn’t need anyone's help or someone to relate to.

Yuri scratched at the fabric on his pants and braced himself for lashing out. “I do-”

 

“Yuri! Hey! You’re here! Ha! I’m so glad I made it.” The teen turned. Dread washing over him in an instant. His knees bent and he caught himself on the wall. Yuuri suddenly looked even more concerned than he had been.

 

“S-Sasha wha-” Sasha walked over hurriedly and slapped a shoulder on his back. Yuri was sure that the face he had in that moment was nothing but revulsion.

 

“I wanted to catch you perform before i got caught up in my equipment.” Sasha laughed and then noticed the stranger beside him. “Oh You’re the other Yuuri!”

 

“Um, hi . . . how - how do you know Yurio?” Sasha blinked. Remaining silent for asecond and then chuckling.

 

“That’s an adorable nickname! Why didn’t you tell me Yuri! I’ve got to use it now!” Sahsa gripped both of his shoulders. And then looked at the other Yuuri. “Me and Yurio,” Sahsa grinned, “Oh god I love that,” He finally let go of the teen and continued. “Me and Yurio, are childhood friends! I’m on one of the camera team's.” Yuri had never seen Yuuri looked this skeptical of a guy before.

 

“I, see . . .” There was an awkward silence in which Yuri was in Sasha’s grip. Yuri looked around desperately for an escape. Some sort of way out of this. His water bottle caught his eye.

 

“I need to go fill up my water. I’ll be back.” He said and practically ran the length of the hall to the water fountains. He was sure he wasn’t graceful while running on his skates. He didn’t hear any talking from the two other men, and hoped they wouldn’t be following him. He leaned on the water fountain and drank pathetically. God, he got tired easily now. He panted and panted and-

 

Time and space are normally thought of as a strict set of points and data, that, even if it may not be completely understood, has some sort of algorithm to follow. That time is linear, that space expands to depth upon depths that human minds couldn’t fathom to follow along. But all of that went away for Yuri. When Sasha’s calloused long hands whipped him around, looking down on him like he was a food to be devoured by a predators large teeth and unhinging jaw, the world spun, and he spun, and suddenly he was in that closet, in the rink, and all the times he had ever made himself throw up. He was all of those times replaying. And space was as small as an angels shoe on a thimble. Why did Sasha smell like peppermint? He was no treat. Yuri thought about how peppermint tasted on his tongue after he ate a peppermint flavored cake for his birthday and had occupied the bathroom for an hour. Burning, bad, fiery. Crackely. Almost the same texture as the moments in that closet. With how many times he had to chew each bite. Yuri felt the coldness in the tips of his fingers and feet and his brain couldn’t remember if that was because he was throwing up ice cream, had been banished to the cold after a session with sasha, or if he was simply just cold. Nothing was making sense and he froze solid. Eyes on the ceiling.

 

Something warm on his lips. The taste of forgotten raspberry jam on the edge of a plate. The smell of salt, and peppermint, and sweat. The heat ruminating off of skin that was so much rougher and chipped then his. A wet intruder sweeping between his teeth. Yuri stumbled after it was all gone. The world finally snapping back into one linear line, one never ending space. But he was still frozen in the grip on his ass and on his hands. His brain still in a haze. Fog. Heavy, heavy fog. “I missed you.” Was all he caught before the hands left him in reality. Yuri still felt them, however, in his small world.

 

And maybe it had only been seconds since Sasha had vanished from his sights. But it felt like a thousand years of standing there, trying to figure out what to do. 

  
There was a vending machine.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “stop the car,” he said, his voice gravely.
> 
>  
> 
> “Yurio, we’re almost to your house, can’t it wait?” Yuuri said, turning around in the front to look at him.
> 
>  
> 
> “just stop the car!” he yelled, and his voice cracked, and he wanted to shoot himself. Viktor stopped the car abruptly, and Yuri ran from it, into a tiny cropping if field separating the roads. He knelt in the grass, it itched his shins, and placed his fingers in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ate normally??? And i feel like shit???? So this chapter is . . . Enngheh????? Hope you enjoy?????

 

Yuuri followed not long after he was left alone. But he had been stalled by an extremely drunk Viktor. He sighed. Things weren’t what they had been a couple months ago. There was no one in the hallway. But the presence of something rotten flooded through him. It was off. Yurio would have finished by now. A wrapper on the floor. Okay, he was smart enough to inference where the teen was.

 

The bathrooms in the building were freakishly clean. He heard to crying before he had even opened the door. And prepared himself for a storm.

 

When Phichit had first moved in with him, every junky comfort food Yuuri had in has pantry had ended up missing. He shrugged it off to phichit being hungry after the move. It peeved him a little but not too much. He’d probably do something just as annoying, or even more within their stay together. Might as well develop a backlog of complaints before someone decided to nag at you. The next week, however, he found all of his junk foods, again, in the complexes trash. Completely untouched. The food was still inside. That was when he raised an eyebrow. He started watching more. Snooping more. Until Phichit was gone practicing way longer then Yuuri did, and he was often reprimanded for overworking himself. So one night when Phichit was out, Yuuri decided to do something stupid. He found the journal underneath his bed. He found a ton of stuff under Phichits bed. It was a horror show. The mere amount of rotten food underneath that bed. Yuuri ran with the journal clutched in his hands. He didn’t come back that night.

 

The teen had four chip bags around him, six candy bars, and two sodas. He wasn’t done. Chowing down on every piece like if he didn’t he’d die. Yuuri cautiously sat himself down next to the teen. “Leave me alone.”

 

“Did something happen?” Yuuri asked. The teen was sobbing and shoved more chips into his face. “Was it that guy? Did something happen with that guy?” 

 

“Just shut up.” The teen moaned and crumpled the chip bag. He stood up and away from Yuuri’s arms and practically crawled to the toilet.

 

“Yurio- Please, just wait!” Yuuri said. He sat in front of the stall door, listening to the young boy gag. Yuuri sighed. The teen was still sobbing in between his gags. Even after Phichit, he still couldn’t understand what would bring a person to this.

 

Yurio came out after ten minutes, his face flushed, his sleeve with the traces of vomit he wiped off of his face. He stumbled slightly on his feet, glancing at Yuuri and then walking over to the sink to wash. Yuuri walked up behind him, holding his shoulders gently. “Let’s get you home.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He ran out of his therapist's room after the appointment. His grandpa quickly followed suit behind him. “It won’t be forever Yuratchka, just until we can make sure you won’t hurt yourself anymore.” He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. He’d have to eat, and then be watched for two hours afterwards to make sure he didn’t purge. And he didn’t want that. He just needed something. Nothing was his anymore. He just needed something for himself, for once in his life.

 

He collapsed on his way to the car, and his grandpa held him as he cried. Nothing was ever going to work out. He felt so apart from everything. Like he couldn’t remember the answers to solve his problems. He didn’t leave his room for two days after the appointment.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


It had been a full ten days of him binging and purging. His grandpa wouldn't let him not eat. It made him crazy. Ot made him feel like he had no control. So he ate and he ate and he ate, and most of the time his grandpa was just on the other side of the dor, crying as Yuri vomited chunks, showering for an hour before coming back out. He didnt know what to do. Everything felt so grey, so far away, so fake. He didn't get to see his weight till friday that week. And when he did he wanted to jump out of the window rifht then and there. 10 pounds? 10 fucking pounds? How in the world could he have gained that much. He started to cry again. He had been doing that a lot this week.

 

It was Viktor and Yuuri who had taken him to that appointment, his grandpa had started therapy himself and had an appointment at the same time. Viktor wasn't talking to him, Yuuri was the only one even trying to empathize. Yuri leaned his head against the cold glass and sniffled. He wanted it gone. They always made him eat at the clinic, and even if it had been two hours and it wouldn't matter anymore he just wanted to shove his fingers down his throat anyway. “stop the car,” he said, his voice gravely.

 

“Yurio, we’re almost to your house, can’t it wait?” Yuuri said, turning around in the front to look at him.

 

“just stop the car!” he yelled, and his voice cracked, and he wanted to shoot himself. Viktor stopped the car abruptly, and Yuri ran from it, into a tiny cropping if field separating the roads. He knelt in the grass, it itched his shins, and placed his fingers in his mouth.

 

“Yurio! Stop, Yurio stop right now or-” it was Viktor. Viktor who hadn't talked to him properly for months, who hadn't ever kept a single one of his promises, who cared more about Yuri being better for his own personal gain then the teens health. Viktor who never noticed what had been going on, who never even asked. Yuri spat out the small amount of stomach acid he had in his mouth at him.

  
“or what!” he screamed. His face red from the strain, his eye had probably popped a vessel, he didn't doubt it. His throat hurt, he bit down too hard on his hand. He had tears and snot and vomit running down his face. Viktor took a step back. The hurt evident on his face. “What will you do ‘Vikchan’?” Yuri mocked. “You’ll ignore me? Hurt me? Telk my grandpa, Yakov? Lilia? I DON'T CARE ANYMORE.” he screamed. His hands tensed around the dirt he knelt on. Ripping at the strands of grass. “I don’t want you to care either!” Yuri tore the land from its roots and threw it at Viktor. “You all just want me to be fat. You just want me to ruin my career. To shut up and deal with it like you dont care! STOP PRETENDING! If i’m that much trouble just kill me already!” his heart was beating really fast. He gasped for breath and clutched at his chest. Yuuri was suddenly pulling at his shoulder. “GET AWAY FRO- fro’ me” the world spun. What was this? Viktor was staring at him with tears in his eyes. Like this was the last time he’d ever see Yuri. The teen furrowed his brow. Everything was in slow motion. He looked down at his hand.  _ That's a lot of blood _ . He thought. Am I dying? It was the last thing he thought before everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He at least owed Sasha this, even if it was terrible and made him sick, it was the only thing he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out surprisingly fast.. . Especially for funals week. I also wrote this on my phone so the format is FUCK UP.

“I can't afford inpatient care. Miss, is there anything else I can do? Please tell me!” there was beeping surrounding him like a veil. His body felt almost non existent.  he just at the hospital? “three times a week?” he heard his grandpa in the distance, pleading with the nurses and doctors. Yuri tried opening his eyes, that was the only thing that seemed to hold any weight. He shifted, able to see the white tile ceiling. It smelled like anti septic and the faint scent of vomit. He had something on his face. He felt a sharp pang of panic, and opened his eyes wide.

 

“Thank god you're awake.” he heard. Viktor? Yuri looked over. He lifted his hand, as hard as it was and felt the tube.

 

“Ple-” he began but quickly stopped. Talking hurt so much. He’d never felt something hurt that bad. Tears sprang to his eyes and he grabbed desperately at the tube and then at Viktor.

 

“Yuri, please stop.” the teen wasn't the only one crying. “you just got out of surgery.” Yuri had never seen Viktor this sad before. The older man took a deep breath and grasped at Yuri’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I know it's not your fault. I do. I was so angry at you, that you could do this. That it looked like you wanted to do this. I shouldn't have blamed you. I just wanted to go back to the way things were between us. I miss the happy you so much. I can hardly remember him. I’m so sorry, I treated to you terribly. You were dying and all I did was blame you.” Viktor rested his head on the top of Yuri’s hand. The teen didn't know what to do. He couldn’t speak. He couldn't do anything but stare. Viktor used his real name.

 

“they will discharge you in a couple hours. I can’t afford more than that. I'm so sorry I didn't notice sooner Yuratchka.” His grandpa leaned over and hugged him. It was suffocating. “This time we’ll do this right. You’ll meet with your nutritionist once a day. And group therapy five times a week for three hours. The doctors said you can’t skate until you weigh at least 110. We can get you through this Ko’tenok. I promise.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


**_Russian fairy in hospital. Fatal fea?_ **

 

Yuri read the paper with disgust. Why did they have to do that. It wasn't anybody else's business but his. Recently his grandpa watched his every move. He even employed Yuuri and Viktor to take shifts with him. Making sure he didn't purge and that he ate.

 

He had been sat down with his Nutritionist, Lilia, Yakov, his grandpa, and Viktor to write down a list of things he thought he could keep down. Soup was all he wrote down. And then he had to write down a list of all the stuff he would eat. He mostly wrote vegetables and fruits all his ‘safe’ foods, but even then if he ate too much he'd purge it. He still didn't want to get better. He felt suffocated. 

 

He spent most nights at Yuuri and Viktors place. His grandpa being to sad for him to bare. Yakov would attend every single appointment he had with him. It was awful. It was humiliating.

 

Otabek knew everything that was going on and was calling daily. Yuri didn't complain. It felt like the one escape he had. The teen sat on Viktors couch with his computer in his lap and the video centered perfectly on Otabek’s face. He was smiling. He always smiled when they talked, he couldn't help it. “So when do you plan on coming here, beka?” Yuri asked the next sunday after he got out of the hospital.

 

“April sixth.” Yuri grinned. That was only two months away! He’d have to lose weight before then. But he'd also have to be skating as well. He puzzled for a moment, spacing out. “Yura,” Yuri looked up at the screen and hummed. “Where’d you go?” Otabek asked. Yuri shook his head.

 

“nothing, I'm just excited.” Otabek smiled fondly at him.

 

“Me too.”

 

They ended the call not to long after that, Otabek had to go to practice and Viktor had wandered in and started pestering. Yuri watched cooking shows while Viktor sat beside him. “You like him.” he cooed.

 

“Shut up.” He didn't want to have this conversation. He kicked Viktor in the thigh.

 

“he’s a bit old though.”

 

“ He’s only 18.” Yuri combatted and then realized he had just outed himself. Viktor had a giant grin on his face.” besides i’ll be sixteen when i see him in person. And it's not like you’re one to talk. 28 and 24.”

 

“It’s different when you’re a kid.” Viktor commented, a little more serious. Yuri groaned.

 

“I’m not a kid.” Viktor snorted.

 

“Okay.” Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

“ It’s not like anything is going to happen anyways, I'm too ugly.” he mumbled the last part under his breath, and instantly regretted it. Viktor dragged him into his arms.

 

“You. Are. Not. Ugly.” he said while squeezing him so tightly, Yuri felt like he was gonna puke.

 

“Let go of me!” He protested and clawed his way to the other end of the couch. “You’re so clingy lately, what the hell. . .” He trailed off, and switched the channel to something else. Sports? Eh, why not. . .

 

“Is that why you do all this?” The question didn’t trigger any anger or sadness in him. It just felt kind of numb, uncomfortable. Yuri shrugged.

 

“Not all of it.” Yuri sighed and curled in on himself subconsciously. He hadn’t actually talked yet in therapy, just sitting there in silence. It was weird. It felt wrong saying it outloud. He rolled his tongue around, talking about it tasted weird.

 

“Then why?” Viktor prodded. And so Yuri had to think. It had started because he was faking the flu, it had spread to actually being sick and not eating, and it developed into something to focus on other than the hands on him. Counting, counting, counting. It was all numbers in his head. Even at seven he trying to discern the numbers of what he could eat. And then it turned into something else; he was bad, he was a bad person, he needed to repent, he needed to be clean and pure and a  _ better person, I want to be a better person. _ And what was it now? He couldn't even tell. It was about weight now. How small can he get? How much like a child could he look like? How can he become less sexualized? His fans sent him into panic attacks when he saw what they could think up. But maybe it was the one thing he had. Something that he could whip out at any moment and have someone's attention.  _ Look at me, look at how broken I am and help me, i need help. _ He never asked for help though, he didn't want it, not for eating, he never wanted anyone to know about Sasha, but at the same time he wanted to scream it at the world.  _ This is why I am like this, I'm stuck at a wall and I can't get through, and the brick are falling off, but their falling on me and i'm hurt, and I need help. _

 

“I- I can't tell you th-that.” Viktor stared at him, trying to discern the exact cause as to why Yuri wasn't lying, and why he wasn't telling the truth. Eventually he sighed, and relaxed into the couch.

 

“You always tried to be the best, even as a kid. And you were  _ always _ the best. And even then you were never satisfied with that. But off the ice you were a completely different kid, you were stubborn, and scared. You were so scared all the time and I- I still can't guess as to why.” Viktor gestured with his hands desperately. Yuri watched. His heart pounding. For the first time he wanted to talk about it. He really really wanted to tell someone. He wanted to tell Viktor. Yuri bowed his head and picked at his nails.

 

“I want to tell you, but I- I - I can't.” he scrambled with the idea of a few more sentences before giving up with a huff. “If i have to eat dinner can I at least pick what I eat?”

 

Viktor smiled, “‘Course, what would you like?” 

 

“Cereal.” Yuri said with utmost confidence.

 

Viktor laughed, slapping the palms of his hands on his thighs as he stood. “I’d have thought it would be something more difficult to cook. What kind,” Viktor tapped his foot, hand on his chin. “sugary?” Yuri nodded.

 

“ The cinnamon ones, and . . . I want strawberries on it.” he mumbled. He could power through a meal for strawberries.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


It had been a fortnight since his accident. He’d gained 12 pounds in total and was weighing 97 lbs. He hated every inch, every wrinkle, every pigment, every roll, of skin on his body. He’d rather be light on fire then keep up with this regime. He’d been doing a good job of keeping up appearances. Even to himself. He’d actually tricked himself into thinking it was okay to be this large. He was big and large and he took up too much space. He could not sleep like this. He missed his bones. He still had them but . . . It wasn't the same. He felt toxic. He didn't let anyone on to that. Just trying his hardest and not saying anything. He needed to get back down before Otabek got back. He had written it down in his ‘book’; 75 lbs. It was unreasonable he knew. But he still wanted Otabek to look at him and see a perfect porcelain figure of perfection. Small, able to pick up and hold tightly to comfort. Not a disgusting heavy lump of lard. Although not having his hair constantly fall out was nice. And having good breath was also . . . Nice. He wasn't  _ as _ cold all the time.

 

Maybe if he kept on this track he’d be fine in a month or two. He was good at . . . stuff. It was getting better, until . . .

 

Sasha showed up to his house that wednesday morning. They’d been texting, well mostly Sasha. Dick pics, other pics, flirtatious requests, promises. But now he was here, in person. Yuri gulped. “hey! I just wanted to check up on you. See how you were doing.” Yuri didn't say anything, his eyes trailing around, observing his surroundings. He didn't know why, he felt like an army was always behind Sasha and he had to comply.

“who is that, Yuri?” he heard his grandpa shout from inside.

 

“It’s Ss Sasha!” he shouted back. He put distance between himself and the man, who just kept staring at him, that goofy grin still on his face. “Is there something you want?” He asked, and his voice broke.

 

“Well, I was also going to pick you up for that date we planned.” Sasha was acting like this was normal, like he was a bashful teen. He was 23, it was  _ wrong _ .

 

“planned?” he thought aloud. Sasha smiled and nodded. His grandpa came to the door suddenly. Wiping a rag on his hands.

 

“Hello, Sasha, why don't you come inside?” Sasha shook his head and smirked.

 

“Heard Yurio was having a hard time, thought I'd treat him to something.” his grandpa beamed. Not bothering to look at Yuri.

 

“How nice!” Yuri ground his teeth. This wasnt what he had planned. “Bring jim home before five, and stop by! I'm making dinner.” Sasha nodded, and with that, Yuri was alone, the door closed.

 

Sasha took him by the hand, clasping him against his body just like any other couple. Yuri tried not to feel sick. Sasha let out a long sigh and looked Yuri up and down. Sasha trailed a hand down his stomach, and then pressed it to his face. “Look what they’ve done to you, all chubby. I liked you better thinner.” Yuri closed his eyes. That stung. That stung a lot. “You know I can help you get back on track. Make you perfect again.” Sasha was feeling him up everywhere. Pinching and prodding. “Russia’s Fairy should look like a fairy. How many weeks has it been following your plan?” Sasha was nosy. No doubt he’d called his grandpa and talked as well.

 

“two weeks,” he croaked out. Sasha frowned.

 

“One more week, keep it up. Then I’ll help you get back down. Tone you out.” Sasha tapped his cheek and smiled innocently. “You’re so cute. Do you remember all that stuff I taught you? We can do it again. Burns calories.” Yuri shivered, the dislike evident on his face. Sasha sighed, squeezing his hand. “You're right, I’ll wait, till you feel comfortable in your skin again. We can always kiss until then.” Sasha kissed his cheek and giggled, he pulled Yuri to his car, leaving Yuri’s hand alone in turn for grabbing his ass. The teen tried to think of anything else other than what was happening in this moment. If he could just not focus on this, maybe he wouldn't have to live with it.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


A week later Yuri was in Sasha’s car again, being felt up and made out with after a day out on the town. Sasha bought him a coat, bracelets, laxatives, diet pills, new jeans, books he wanted. Anything, somehow Sasha had gotten money, and for some reason he was buying everything Yuri wanted. He didn't know what to think anymore. Sasha hadn't changed in his respects towards sex, but he was so nice? And Yuri didn't know why, and, he’d spent so much money on him, everyone else thought he was nice, maybe Yuri was just crazy? No, he still didn't want the hand that was palming at his crotch. “god, you're so cute, even when you're fat. You want this just as much as I do. I know, but we can't yet” Sasha pulled away, the erection in his pants evident. “It’s been three weeks.” Sasha said, looking at him like prey.

 

“yeah, it has.” Yuri repeated. His brain all foggy.

  
“we need to get you thin again.” Yuri nodded. “so… you need help with math right? How about i tutor you? You can come over to my house for most of the day, you won't have to eat anything. We can't do it everyday, but maybe four times a week. We’re best friends after all. The other days, well. . . Do you do the dishes?” Yuri nodded, that was one of his main things, dishes. Only at Viktor's house he wasn't allowed to. His grandpa didn't know about him spitting out food. “well then you can just spit out your food then. And let's try not to puke this time around. You’d taste terrible, and your cheeks get all chipmunk like” they did kind of look swollen. Yuri rubbed at his face. He jumped when Sasha was holding his hand again. “I love you, Yuri.” the teen just nodded. The kissing started again, he did nothing but comply. He at least owed Sasha this, even if it was terrible and made him sick, it was the only thing he had.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry i haven't been updating frquently. My depression is kicking my ass. I tried to update this yesterday?? but AO3 was like nah bruh. no summery because i'm a lazy peice of trash. hope you enjoy this sub par chapter.

 

That friday he was at Viktor’s house. His Grandpa needed the day off and Yuri had to always be monitored until they could trust him again. Apparently that wasn’t just quite yet. Sasha had had to send pictures of Yuri eating his meals when they were together. He had gotten there when they were still out. He quickly put all of the food in the kitchen on the table. Yuri hated this, he hated that this is what he needed. HE took all of the low fat, low cal, stuff he had bought and replaced the rest. Now he’d know. Now he could count. HE closed his eyes and braced himself on the chair. They’d only managed to get him to actually eat 1,000 calories a day hopefully with this change he could get back down to 700.  _ ‘So cute even when you’re fat’ _ .

 

“Yuri! You got here before us!” Viktor shouted and came bonding in, wrapping his arms around him. Why did he feel so guilty? “Yuuri’s going to make katsudon as a treat.” Yuri grimaced.

 

“I don’t know if I ca-” HE was quickly cut off by the other Yuuri, a hand on his shoulder and a sweet smile.

 

“I’ll make yours a bit smaller. If you can’t eat it we can make something else, don’t worry.” He continued to walk past and start to set up his space to prepare dinner. Viktor still had his arms around him and Yuri was starting to feel cramped.

 

“So what show are you gonna watch instead of talking to me today?” Viktor said, and began leading him over to the couch.

 

“I have plans.” Yuri said, and brushed Viktor off, stalking into the guest room with his bag in tow.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Are you upset about something?” Beka asked out of the blue. After a five minute silence full of Yuri just picking at his nails and staying quiet. Yuri shook his head. Everything was wrong, if he told Otabek what that was it would just hurt more. And he couldn’t handle anymore hurt. Beka sighed and slumped a little in his chair. “What did you eat today?” Yuri smirked. He hadn’t really eaten anything. He had been able to get away with most things and that Katsudon would most likely take up his entire intake for the day.

 

“What was in front of me.” He had put it in his mouth at least, whether or not it got farther then that wasn’t anybody else’s business. Otabek frowned, placing his head in his hands. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Otabek hummed and glanced away.

 

“Looking at you lie what?” Otabek smirked, teasing at him. Yuri snorted. If he could pushed him he would.

 

“Shut up, dork.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


He pulled out a chunk of his hair that morning. What was the date? March 23th. Yuri sighed. Sasha was picking him up again. Yuri supported himself on the sink. 78.5. He couldn’t think. He could hardly breath. He could hardly see. Time passed in giant jumps and skips. Nothing made sense to him anymore. He didn’t even know if he was hiding anything. He didn’t register walking past Viktor and Yuuri on his way out. That they asked where he was going and he didn’t answer.

 

Sasha kissed the top of his head when he popped in the car. His eyes drooped. He didn’t process the turns taking them in a different direction than usual. Falling asleep to the vrum of the car. Half awake, he rested his head on sasha’s shoulder and wasn't jostled around as much. 

 

He didn't remember much after that. Only that he woke up with a bad taste in his mouth and something sticky in his hair. He groaned. He just wanted a nap. He was so tired of all of this. He wished he could just shove his hand into his chest, tear through bone and muscle, pull out his beating heart and throw it away. Squish his lungs so hard they flattened like a crepe. Purge his spine up, stimp his stomach out and not have to live with his body anymore. He tore and scratched at his skin frantically. His black sleeves coming up and revealing the purple veins glaringly showing up across his pale skin. He was a wreck. He scowled, and sat up. Where did sasha go?

 

They were at a convenient store. Somewhere far away. He didn't recognize anything. It was obviously a poorer side to the country. Run down, wooden gas stations and scruffy looking double lidded men with beards down to their belly buttons, and big trucks parked in the driveway. Sasha came out with a grin, carrying a bag.  _ Oh great _ . Yuri thought. Sasha waved when he saw he was awake. Skipped over and threw open the door and flung the bag at him. “morning, princess! Geez you were out cold. Got you something. Tea.” Yuri climbed over the seats to get to the front of the car. He eyed the bag. Sasha watched expectantly. “there’s another present inside.” he felt numb, somewhere along the line it seemed he developed some sort of tremor in  his hands, he shook the bag as he opened it. “I know they aren't really your thing but i thought it would be good for when you're at Viktors.”

 

This would kill him.

 

Yuri. . . Maybe for the first time ever, realized that really didn't want to die.

 

A little blue and white bottle with one of those organic selling points. He’d rather vomit then shit himself to death on laxatives. He gripped them hard. If he wasn't so bony and week he swore he would have broken it. He didn't say anything, even while Sasha’s smile faltered and was replaced with a pout. A large sigh escaped the mans lips. “I bought you a gift and you didn't even say thanks.” a pause. “youre welcome.” he said and looked intensly at Yuri. “god, you're such a fucking brat.”  _ yeah, guess so. _ The car sputtered and stopped, and he waited, silently, holding on deathly tight to the pill bottle. “Motherfucking car won’t start. No good deed goes unfucking punished I guess.” the car made a burst and pop and started back to life. Sasha laughed in triumph and speed out of the driveway with a hoot.  _ Hick _ . 

 

Yuri looked out the window. Why didn't he want to die? There wasn’t a single reason not to. That wasn’t true. He couldn’t break his grandpa’s heart like that. Staring at the road beside him he rolled down the window. Uncapped the pills.  _ Fly fly fly away. _ He thought. His wrist slid up the side of the door before he even knew what he was doing, he let go.  **Clack clack clack.** “What the fuck?!”

 

**Skiiiirrrrrrrt**

 

The car rolled to it’s side leaning a little as it stopped. He couldn't even feel scared, how fucked up was that? Sasha pushed him into the door. “I bought you those and this is how you repay me? What the hell Yuri!?” Yuri stared at his lap. He just wanted to go home, but he could feel sasha grabbing him. So he fought. Weakly, halfheartedly. He was shaken, held by his skinny wrists. “talk, god damnit!” there was a long pause of just there breaths as they struggled against each other. Eventually Yuri still didn't speak, and Sasha spat on his face. “I should-”

 

“Just hit me!” Yuri screamed at him. “Just do it already!” he wasn’t even crying. His eyes wide like an owls. His breathing picking up. “You can love me even if I don’t love you. You can touch me even if don't want you to. So why can't you hit me? I’d feel so much better if you hit me, if you abused me. So just hit me, please hit me!” his throat rasped. Sasha’s eyes met his, almost pity, just for a split second before he made a disgusted noise.

 

“you're fucking insane” Yuri put dropped his head, chin hitting his chest. His wrists were still being held. “get out my car.” Sasha didn’t have to push him as he opened the door, but he did anyway. And it hurt. It was at least a 15 minute walk back to the gas station. He had his cellphone in his pocket at least. Though reception wasn’t guaranteed. But it was still fucking freezing. He shook. Staring at the expansive flat road.

 

“FUCK!” he screamed as loud as he could into the air. “I HATE MYSELF I HATE MYSELF I HATE MYSELF.” he collapsed to the ground. Curling in on himself. What was he gonna do? He didn't even know where he was. He couldn't explain why he didn't know where he was, and he didn't even know if he had reception, if he could even get someone to know where to pick him up. “this sucks,” he choked. It came out raspy and high pitched. He bit down in his thumb and thought.  _ I need to get to that gas station. _

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Can you come pick me up?”

 

Yuuri was with Viktor, snuggling on the couch, watching a movie, when he got the call. He was actually making tea. And Viktor was asleep. The teen’s breath was heavy and shaky. Yuuri worried and listened trying to make out the landmarks. It was made clear that Yurio didn’t want Viktor to come with him, if he did he would have called the Russian man instead. Yuuri wrote everything he was told down and packed up. From the looks of it, he was an hour out.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked when he first saw Yurio sitting outside the gas station, chowing down on a ton of different foods. He wanted to purge. So something had to have happened. He knew he didn’t trust Sasha. He may have fooled everyone else. Crusted something was in the teens hair and his clothes were ruffled. Yuuri didn’t want to assume what happened, didn’t want to press. He bent down in front of the blond and took his hands. “Yurio, did something happen?” To his surprise the teen nodded. “Do you want to tell me what?” This time he shook his head. “Okay, that’s okay. Let’s get you home. Your grandpa will understand another night at ours. We’ll make something light. Let’s go home.” Yuri nodded and sniffled, dropping his head to his chest. He held Yuuri’s hands as he was lead to the car. Something was happening, happened, or whatever and it needed to be talked about, addressed, and if Yuuri was the only one able to recognize that then he was willing to take up this task on his own.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE BRUISES ON HIS HIP ARE NOT FORGOTTEN I DID NOT FORGET THEY ARE GOING TO BE ADRESSED JUST LET ME UPDATE WITH THIS. XD  
> Okay so i wrote this and i enjoyed it because well angst??? Here you go! too lazy to do a summery again.

“Can you please call him? Talk to him? I think being able to vent to someone who’s been through this would really help him. Phichit please. He really needs help. He hasn’t left the guest room for three days.” Yuuri could imagine the man biting his nails on the other side of the line. His treatment was still ongoing and they talked nearly every day about how food was always such a daily struggle for him. He didn’t want to trigger anything but Yurio really needed someone to talk to and Phichit was strong.

“Do you know how much he weighs?” Yuuri shook his head before he realized he was on the phone. He didn’t. Yurio had just offered up some information that he had been hiding weights in his clothes during his appointments. He had confiscated them and told his grandpa about it but . . . he was sure that wasn’t the only thing.

“I don’t know. He goes to the doctor but, he’s . . . tricky.” Phichit sighed. Ground his teeth. Yuuri leaned against the bathroom?” sink. IT was the only place he could be alone with Viktors friends over. “Did you ever do this?”

“I never got caught till you. Yurio always seemed to have a lot more on his mind then i did. He doesn’t hide it as well as he thinks he does.” The kid was always angry. None of his close friends really seemed to think anything else but teen angst but everyone else always wondered if something had happened. Even Christophe. Something about Viktor and Yakov just weren’t very perceptive.

“I think something happened to him.” Yuuri practically whispered. It just seemed so . . . he didn’t know, he didn’t but . . . He remembers Viktor mentioning so many things in passing that didn’t seem normal to him.

“What do you think?” Phichit asked.

“I think someone hurt him, or is hurting him. I don’t know.-”

Knock knock knock

“Yuuri? Are you coming out? Are you okay?” Yuuri quickly stood up, brushing himself off, turning on the sink.

“Just a second! I’m fine!” He yelled, and then whispered, “I’ll call you tomorrow, bye, take care.”

“Bye Yuuri! Don’t forget about yourself.” Yuuri opened the door to Viktors worried face. His cheek caressed gently by Viktors cold hands.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asked. He nodded, leaning in to peck his fiance on the cheek.

“Perfectly fine. Don’t worry about me.” Viktor looked down sadly reaching out and holding Yuuri’s hip.

“I’m sorry i’ve been drinking so much lately. I guess I do kind of have a problem.” His eyes glossed over, he looked so sad. Yuuri tutted and kissed him again.

“Just because you’ve made mistakes, have problems, doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make me stop loving you. Now let’s get back to the party.” His fiance nodded and they walked back to the living room holding hands.

  
-oOo-

  
Sasha hurt him in so many ways. In so many ways that seemed to be so desired by adults. He wasn’t a child and yet he always would be.

He laid down on the scratchy carpet of the closet and held his breath as Sasha experimented with his body. His fingers inside of him. Rummaging around inside of him. He panted and sniffled and he didn’t understand a single thing that was happening, he was laughing trying to prove that he was okay. He didn’t understand, and he just wanted to tear his hair out and scream at the top of his lungs. His bare chest was getting rug burn from his wriggling.

Ever since it all started he’d been wetting the bed again. It was so embarrassing. His grandpa had even brought him to the doctor. They gave him sleeping pills. At least he wasn’t allowed to sleepover at his friends anymore. At least there was that.

He couldn’t even skate the way he used too. He couldn’t take risks. Everything hurt. He didn’t want to be seen in his tight pants and workout clothes. He was scared all the time. Of everything.

Yuri puked. Sasha hit him.

  
-oOo-

  
He had puked on his sheets. Cold, hot, cold, hot. He shivered and wretched over the side of the bed. Shaking like a small, scrawny dog. He couldn’t even hear the screams emitting from him. Yuri hyperventilated, making gasps, his lungs were accordions. He couldn’t get the feeling of fingers inside of him. Get them out. Get them out. They were inside. Scratching, clawing at his insides. He puked again and again and again. Blood dripped from his fingernails. He couldn’t get enough air.

Moments flooded together all at once and he couldn’t even see. Hands were all over him. Someone shouting his name. Moaning it in his ear as they fucked him against a carpet. He was just a kid he couldn’t he gasped and puked and choked and shook. Moaning his name like he was some sort of toy. The smell of puke. The smell of cum. The smell of sweat. His throat clogged. Tightening. Skin on skin flapping.

“Yuri!” He gasped and shot up. Hands were holding him in place he screamed. “Yuri, it’s Viktor please calm down. It was just a bad dream.” They were trying to tear him apart from the inside. Fingers were still inside of him. He needed to get them out. He tried pulling away but his hands were held still. He cried and wailed and begged. “It’s just a bad dream. You’re safe. It’s Viktor.”

“What’s happening?” They were going to hurt him, they were hurting him. He managed to get his hand free and he wriggled to the other side of the bed. Curling in himself. He was sticky and gross and sad and terrified. And people were touching him everywhere. He dry heaved, hands curling in the sheets. “Oh god. Yurio.” the bang that came startled him and liquid finally came out from his throat.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He was being picked up. He was too petrified to move. Instead he shook and quivered. Begging under his breath.

“I want to go home.” HE sobbed. “I want to go home.” His feet hit the doorway and he whimpered. “Please let me go home.” It was so dark.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.”

“More like a flashback.” Yuri felt himself being laid down on something soft and smelling of fabric freshener. It eased his stomach. There was clattering, and lights turning on. Everything felt blurry and hazy. Fingers were still inside him. He tore at his hair.

“Get them out.” He whispered. Someone ran their finger through his hair. It was only then he realised he was resting on someone's lap.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t be afraid. It’s okay. You’re safe, Yuri. Completely safe.” He heaved again, feeling the fingers inside him wriggle around. “Yuuri? Can you get him a bucket please? He’s still throwing up.” There was a hiss as a hand went to his forehead. “He’s burning up.”

“I’ll get a thermometer.” Yuri started to become aware of his sobs, and the room around him. That he was laying on Viktor’s lap, that he was really cold. That he wasn’t wearing anything but his boxers. He still felt people on him. He cried, rubbing his face on Viktor’s pants.

“Are you with me Yuratchka?” Yuri nodded panting, and gasping for breath even still. Groggily he tried to brush away the fingers creeping up his thighs. “What are you doing?”

“They won’t stop touching me.” Yuri muttered, and then choked on some vomit. Yuuri placed a bucket under him just in time.

“He’s flushed to- what are those?” HE winced as a cold hand was placed on his hip. “Bruises? Yuri? Did - did someone hurt you? Did someone - someone-” The other Yuuri didn’t get the chance to speak before yuri was retching violently into the bucket in front of him. “Jesus you’re sick.” Yuuri ran a hand through his hair, feeling his forehead. He made a pained sound.

“Yuuri what- what were you saying?” Viktor said, wet in his voice. “You don’t think someone r- raped him do you?” Yuuri averted his eyes.

“Yurio, do you want me to get you something to wear?” He diverted.

“Yuratchka, did someone do that to you? Hurt you like that?” Viktor pressed. He couldn’t breath again. Taking in giant rasping breath he cried and sobbed. “Those bruises, I-” Viktor gulped.

“I want to go home.” Yuri was only able to get out.

“WE need to get him to the hospital, in his condition if he’s sick it might kill him. Call his grandfather. Yakov will probably want to know.” Yuuri said and then exited the room, leaving Yuri alone with Viktor.

“Yuri, can you answer me? Please answer me.” Viktor was practically crying as well. Yuri wiped his face, roughly and choked on a new sob coming up. He nodded.

“Yes.” He nodded again. Hyper ventilating. Viktor pulled him up into swift hug. Holding him. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.” Yuri begged.

“I’d never betray your trust like that Yuratchka. I’m so so sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry.” Yuuri came back into the room and they both helped a limp and shaking Yuri get dressed and into their tiny car. Viktor drove while Yuuri held his hand in the backseat. He couldn’t believe someone knew. After all these years someone knew.

  
-oOo-

  
He was only in the hospital for that night. Sending him home with a prescription and an appointment at the end of the week. He ended up staying with Yuuri and Viktor still. After everything he didn’t feel like going back home to a place he still had to hide. He slept on the couch. Viktor slept on the floor by the couch. And Yuuri didn’t sleep, making sure everyone was okay, cleaning up, and thinking. Watching.

Was Yurio safe? After what he just admitted . . . he needed - uhg he didn’t know. Compulsively cleaning every inch of the house while he thought through everything that happened that night.

  
-oOo-

  
Viktor paced awkwardly around his house. Helping but not really helping with Yuuri as he did random chores and cook random things they had. He was trying to think of something to say, trying to open a dialogue but not push. He was terrible at those things He was a bit of a brick wall when it came to observing people. What if he didn’t notice Yurio getting anxious? Would it be better or worse to have Yuuri talk with him? Viktor jittered his eg up and down on the couch while Yurio and him watched a movie. The teens eyes were glossy and fogged. Like he wasn’t really there. Viktor wriggled his fingers together, kneaded his thighs and over all just looked like the picture of anxiety in general. And all of a sudden a couch cushion hit him in the face. “You’re shaking the couch.”

Viktor stared blindly at his target of conversation, gulped, and nodded. He scooted a little closer and hesitated on what he should do with his hands. Should he touch Yurio? Or not. Probably not. He grabbed onto his elbows awkwardly instead. “Can I ask you about last night?” Yurio’s eyes glided downward, his shoulder hiking up to his ears, pulling the blanket protectively over himself.

“What about it?” Viktor’s throat was dry and he would give anything to not have to be having this conversation but here he was. He coughed. Feeling his stomach flutter and his heart pound in his chest.

“You said you were raped. When?-”

“Why are you asking me?” Yurio cut in. voice wet. Viktor sighed and turned to face the teen more.

“I want to make sure you are safe.” There was a long pause. He could tell that Yuuri was trying his best not to listen from the kitchen. Yurio sniffled and coughed. His eyes watering over.

“F-for a couple years when I was a kid.” A couple years? When he was a kid? Viktor shook. He wasn’t expecting . . . Yurio wiped his nose. “Seven to ten.” Three years and not a single clue? He could have done something and he didn’t he just let it happen and, and, he was a horrible person. Viktor started to cry. Yurio sat up. “You aren’t supposed to cry.” He said, really confused, somewhat angry, but also crying. Like a kid. Just like that angry twelve year old they found in the bathroom.

“Who could have hurt you like that?” Viktor wailed, panicking. Yurio sat up. Pulling the blanket higher up on him.

“It’s not- I can’t . . . I didn’t know what was happening. I can’t remember. If it’s real. If it’s real then - then i’m broken and if it’s not real then i’m horrible. What if i’m just blowing things out of proportion? Lying? I’m awful. I’m awful.” Yurio grabbed at his chest and Viktor immediately drew him into a hug consequences be damned. Yurio didn’t breath for twenty seconds, before finally letting all that air out. In slow, steady, deep breaths. Viktor rocked them both from side to side.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry. You’re valid. You’re safe now. I’m sorry. You are an amazing person, and what you experience is real and how you react to it is real, and i’m sorry that i didn’t show that before. You are not awful.” Yurio tried pulling away, Viktor held on tighter.

“You’re gonna get sick.” Yurio warned in a raspy voice.

“The only reason you got sick is because you’re fucking starving. Just let me hug you a bit longer.” The two of them stayed like that for nearly five minutes before Yurio broke away in a coughing fit. His face read and tear stained. They pretended like it never happened for the rest of the day. Yurio spit out everything he ate, unable to even swallow. It wasn’t a win.


	14. Authors note

I am safe! but I am going to be having infrequent updates, maybe too frequent then a dry spell?? I didn't update last thursday because well - PTSD things doing PTSD things - So hope i didn't let you guys down. Just adding this so you know i'm not fucking dead.


	15. Chapter 15

“You never purged after you ate chocolate.” Viktor idly said one morning while washing dishes. Not really thinking of time and place or how appropriate the topic was in the first place. Yuri looked up from his nibbled on toast on furrowed his brows.

 

“Yeah, because it’s fucking gross and it burns.” Yuri mumbled into his fork with just the tiniest crumble of almost burnt toast on it.

 

“Well what if we just covered everything in chocolate?” Yuri stared at him for a really long time.

 

“That is so fucking stupid.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’d get sick of chocolate and throw up anyways. Besides i can’t live off of chocolate. I don’t even really like chocolate.” Viktor thought.

 

“What if we just made everything really spicy.” Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

“I wouldn’t be able to eat it in the first place. Spicy foods hurt my throat, remember?” Viktor grunted.  
  
“Well what also tastes bad when you throw it up?”  
  
“Are we really talking about this? You know it’d just be easier to ask me what i don’t feel like I have to throw up like I don’t know . .  everyone else?” There was a long moment of silence. “But i don’t like to throw up fruit . . . since you were asking.”

  
  
  


-oOo-

 

Salted skin

Tasty luscious sodium

It laces young boys bodies in the healthiest ways

Playing to working to running

It’s so scary when that known turns into betrayal

Fingers clipping sentences with touches to stomachs

Touches to throats

Tongues lapping tongues

Hands in places boys hadn’t been able to decipher farther than a bathroom

Salted skin doesn’t just taste like him now.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Watchya up to?” viktor asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. Yuri quickly shut his laptop. Hiding the pictures of the food he’d been fantasizing about. It was embarrassing.

 

“Nothing.” he said. He scooted back against his pillows and stared cautiously around the room.

 

“Well . . . “ It wasn’t supposed to be awkward. But suddenly having two of his most trusted people in his life know his darkest secrets felt so violating and like he was just standing naked in front of them with lipstick insult written on his skin. “It’s time for your weigh in . . . You ready to go?”

 

“MM-hmm.” they both looked around the room. Yuri had since flooded it with his own trinkets and valuables. It was more like a home then his room. It made him sad. He’d distanced himself from his grandpa. It felt selfish. Yuri kept his eyes on a pair of shoes in the corner.

 

“So . . .” Yuri popped off his bed, getting the shakes and a little dizzy. Viktor rushed over and steadied him.

 

“Yeah let’s just go.” He said brushing him off. “Just-”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Sasha, can i ask a question?” Sasha looked at the little boy licking an ice cream cone next to him and smiled a childish grin. He had had a growth spurt.

 

“Sure.” he said in his newfound, forced, nonchalant voice. Yuri looked down at his tied untied shoes and kicked his legs back and forth back and forth, trying to form his sentence just right.

 

“Aren’t people who kiss each other supposed to love each other? But boys aren’t, they aren’t supposed to love each other. Isn’t this bad?” He could see the flash of anger in Sasha’s face before it turned to fear and then back to complete confidence.

 

“Dad’s do it to their kids. Why is it wrong? You just don’t know cause you don’t have a dad. Ask any boy. Of course they’ll probably get flustered, you don’t tell kids about the time you peed your pants. It’s normal.” Yuri furrowed his brow.

 

“So we don’t love each other?” He asked. Why did he feel sad?

 

“Of course not faggot. We’re friends. We’re just. Learning things. You’re grandpa would be proud of you.” Yuri nodded. “But don’t tell him okay. It’s. . . I’m embarrassed. . . I guess.”

 


	16. AUTHORS NOTE

Hello everyone.

So I just got done with twelve weeks of intensive out patient program for my clinically severe OCD.  
I wasn't expecting to have my entire outlook on life changed after 11 weeks of what I call mental boot camp.  
Just imagine working on your biggest fears for 14 hours a week.  
I graduated!!! The test is out of 40, 40 being the worst, I originally scored a 33. But I am now graduated with an 8. 7 is not diagnosable OCD. So i was one point away from literally curing my OCD.  
So if you was wondering where I have been that's what i've been doing for all 11 weeks of my summer. (i'm actually a bit pissed the normal time for getting out is 8 weeks and all my friends graduated less then that, but apparently i'm just an underfucking acheiver and went for 11)  
So yes, I should have more time to update HYPOTHETICALLY. But you know shit happens and within this program i've been diagnosed with Autism, PTSD, an Eating disorder. So it's not just my theories anymore, I was fucking right! which is fantastic but also like. shit bud i've got a lot of issues.

So while the OCD part is (mostly) out of the way i've entered truama therapy, eating disorder clinic, and i'm on a waiting list for the Autism unit. (seattle childrens hospital, thank god for my insurance am i Right? DEBTERS PRISON)   
On top of that whole mental fuckedy sandwich. I'm also fighting with my school over their mistreatment of my individualized earning plan for my dyscalculia and ADHD and GAD. I should be put in a special ed math class but noooooo. Should be getting more time and less work as well, but noooooooo. It's fine though, I'm okay with taking an extra year of highschool if it means getting into my dream college.

I'm taking 9 classes this year, 8 in school and one online. (private school fucks up your credit kids don't fucking do it my tittmunchers)  
SO YEAH!  
I'm directing a play at school, helping my teacher design a curriculum for advanced creative writing as well.

So while i would love love love love love to boost up m words per month on all of my fanfiction, i'm unfortunatly unable to update regularly at all.

NOTHING IS BEING ABANDONED I hope soo . . i'm shit at promises, but I have a lit planned for at least two of my works i'm currently updating. this one and catching my breath.

Unfortunatly I don't think i'll be able to start updating frequently until after november.

I'm trying. but not only am I busy but my outlook on mental illness has changed in way that i would have to change the fundemental morality and storyline of my fanfics to align wiht my new views. EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE! cheesy i know but it's actually hard work. that and all my new info on how to handle certain outcomes which is hard to portray because it's a lot of tough love and self reliance.

I'm trying you guys. don't give up on me! i need your validation. Love you all thanks for reading everything and I promise that the latest this will update is the 1st on january 2018.

thank you!


	17. Authors note

I am going to finish this fic but its going to take a while. I have to get back into the fandom and i might ahorten it just so i can actually finish jt. Thank you all for being patient.


End file.
